


always walk in step with me

by Seuris, Songspinner



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Almyra (Fire Emblem), Alternate Universe - Politics, Blow Jobs, Diplomacy, Foreplay, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s), Oral Sex, Political Alliances, Semi-Public Sex, but mostly it's just dimiclaude
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26006299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seuris/pseuds/Seuris, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songspinner/pseuds/Songspinner
Summary: An entire generation of Faerghan children have grown up at war with Adrestia, while the Leicester Alliance stews in its political intrigues in the wake of House Riegan's decline. When the Empire kicks the war up a notch, intent on conquering the Kingdom, King Lambert reaches out to the Alliance and to Almyra for aid. Two lonely princes attend the negotiations and find each other there.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 106





	1. Fodlan's Locket

**Author's Note:**

> The gist of this AU is that instead of leaving for Fódlan and claiming his birthright as House Riegan's heir, Khalid managed somehow to convince his parents to reach out to Holst and get the Alliance to agree to a ceasefire, partially opening the border for limited trade but not much else; still, he's managed to make himself sort of an unofficial ambassador and has been visiting Goneril off and on for years, negotiating more little agreements here and there. Meanwhile, Adrestia's been trying to reconquer the Kingdom for roughly 30 years and as a result, the events that lead to the Tragedy of Duscur never happen. Duke Riegan has now died with no heirs, leaving Gloucester at the head of the Roundtable instead. Edelgard recently pulled her "become Emperor, overthrow Church" shenanigans and is now on the warpath in an attempt to accelerate the unification of Fódlan, just like in canon.
> 
> Really, though, this backdrop is all just an excuse for Dimitri and Khalid to meet under different circumstances in which Khalid doesn't have to hide who he is and they can fight together. XD
> 
> This first chapter was posted for day 2 of Dimiclaude Birthday Week 2020, day 2: Almyra & Faerghus, horseback riding

Prince Khalid Sabanian (von Riegan) of Almyra slides into his seat beside the younger Goneril with a yawn. "Why does Fódlan start these things so early in the morning?"

"Beats me." Hilda's already nursing a cup of coffee with way too much milk and sugar in it. She slides another cup over to him, this one bereft of milk and slightly sweetened--just how he likes it. "But I've brought you the magical elixir of alertness! You're welcome."

"Mmmm it smells divine." He takes a sip and sighs, contented. "Thank you, Hilda," he lilts in a sing-song voice.

"Hey, are you still staring at the Faerghan prince?" She leans close and whispers, careful not to look at said prince.

"I'm not staring." He's definitely staring. "It's just that he looks like he wants to punch me anytime I come near him, ever since we had tea the other day. I mean, more than he looks like he wants to punch most people."

She gives him a mysterious look. "I guess that's _one_ way to put it."

Khalid eyes her suspiciously. "Sure, another way might be 'he looks like he wants to literally eat me'..."

For some reason, Hilda's smothering a laugh. His suspicion only deepens--is this one of those Fódlan slang things he still hasn't quite perfected yet?--but all she says is,  "I  _ really _ don't think it's as bad as all that."

"How can you be so sure?" He drinks his coffee like he's afraid it might disappear.

"Trust me. A girl knows these things."

"Pretty sure it has nothing to do with being a girl and everything to do with the way you gossip with the Faerghan delegates all the time."

She shrugs. "A girl never reveals her secrets!"

Khalid smirks. "You might not _think_ so, but it's the little things that always give a secret away. Besides, it's not a secret, I _know_ you've been gossiping."

"It's not like you _couldn't_ be gossiping." She sips her coffee daintily, with all the prim propriety of Fódlan's bizarrely strict noble etiquette. "You just choose not to. You spend your free time chattering at Mr. Sourpuss instead."

"Wow, way to have some respect for royalty." He elbows her lightly.

"He doesn't act much like royalty. And you're _barely_ royalty."

"Hey!"  Khalid doesn't have time to be mock-offended for long, though, before his father and Hilda's older brother are calling the meeting to order, and his focus shifts immediately to the negotiations at hand.

* * *

"He thinks your prince doesn't like him," Hilda announces, plopping down between Ingrid and Sylvain on the rim of the fountain in the upper courtyard during the recess for lunch.

"I suppose I can understand why," Ingrid muses, munching on an enormous turkey leg. "But trust me, by His Highness' standards, he's been in a wonderful mood since that first day they spent walking the grounds together."

"If _that's_ his wonderful mood, I don't want to know what a foul one is like." Hilda grimaces.

"You sure don't," Sylvain agrees cheerfully. "He hasn't even snapped at his attendants or barked at everyone to leave him alone _once_ since then. I'm so proud." He wipes an imaginary tear from his eye.

Ingrid reaches around Hilda to punch Sylvain's arm lightly. "Sylvain, don't mock His Highness."

"Ow! I'm not, I'm serious! He's been positively _polite_."

Felix, standing nearby with his arms folded, scoffs. "All that means is that the boar finally remembered how to fake human behavior."

"No, I'm telling you. It's the Almyran prince," Sylvain insists. "Don't you remember that five-hour gap, the day the talks ended early, where they both just vanished? Now, I'm not saying they did anything _untoward,_ but--" Hilda groans as Ingrid reaches around her to punch Sylvain again, getting back up to stand while Sylvain whines about bruises.

"Oh," says Felix. " _That's_ what all that blissful silence was about that day. The Almyran prince wandered off."

Hilda shoots him a glare. "Hey, _I_ don't talk about _your_ friends that way. Although you do, so I guess you're just rude to everyone."

"Yup," Sylvain nods. "That's our Felix."

"Whatever." Felix glances around the courtyard. "The boar seems to have vanished again."

"20 gold says he's with Prince Khalid and they're making out in some bushes."

"They are not!" Ingrid insists. "But I do agree that they probably went off somewhere together again."

Hilda grins. "Don't worry. I'll get the scoop and tell you all about it after dinner."

"Can't wait," Felix grumbles.

* * *

Fódlan's Locket is a fortress, built to stand against siege weapons, armies, and the elements. Its battlements bristle with archers and ballistae, its stone walls tall and imposing. But the Gonerils have lived there since the Church of Seiros was first founded, and they've managed to make it feel like a home despite its pragmatic design. Its extensive series of lower courtyards contains a rambling garden, well-tended if not laid out in a terribly aesthetically pleasing manner. As usual, Dimitri speaks quietly as he and Khalid stroll under the canopy of trellises strewn with vines, discussing the philosophy of war and debating Adrestia's motives and methods in their crusade against the Church and, by extension, all of Fódlan. Khalid is glad to find that, unlike many nobles on both sides of the mountains, Dimitri isn't one to leap to conclusions or assume the worst of people. He debates thoughtfully and with respect for Khalid's views, even when he doesn't understand or share them. He has less respect for the Empire's side of things, but Khalid has to admit that he can't condone the Emperor's actions, either. And, most importantly, both princes agree that peace can be had, if they all play their cards right.

When that subject inevitably winds down, they enjoy a comfortable silence for a while as they walk through the gardens, punctuated only occasionally by Khalid's commentary on an interesting flower he's found or the way two kinds of fruit vines coexist without competing for nutrients or light.  Soon, that turns them to less dire topics of conversation. Khalid finds himself subtly and politely complaining about how Leicester's understanding of how to use the Almyran ingredients they import still leaves a lot to be desired, and he listens with interest when Dimitri in turn praises what his own people have learned about cooking since formalizing their political, military, and trade alliance with their Duscurian neighbors. In time, even this devolves into Dimitri grumbling about the Alliance's seafood-heavy cuisine and describing his favorite Faerghan dishes, and then Khalid waxing poetic about feasting and Almyra's rambunctious festivals and traditional holidays.

It's while Dimitri is quietly gushing about a type of cheese that comes out of Gautier territory that a butterfly--a monarch, if Khalid's not mistaken--alights on Dimitri's armored shoulder, though he doesn't seem to notice. Part of Khalid's mind starts to wander upon seeing it, thinking about how ominously everyone had warned him before coming to this conference to stay away from the unapproachable prince of Faerghus, unless he wanted to get snapped and growled at . As he suspected, these warnings turned out to be unnecessary--Dimitri has been nothing less than charming and adorable. Maybe it's his blunt honesty they don't like, Khalid thinks, or they're intimidated by his appearance. Both reasons are a ridiculous reason to keep someone at arm's length, so he doesn't.

When the conversation hits another lull, Khalid gestures to a bench in a pretty clearing surrounded by flowering trees and boasting a tiny babbling brook running through it. They sit. "You know," Khalid says, " you’re the only one I've met here who seems to enjoy talking to me about all these everyday things, it’s a nice change of pace." Hilda doesn't count, of course; he's known her for years.

Dimitri takes a second to think about it before he fixes Claude with a somewhat stern look. "I've noticed that nobles in the Alliance live... comfortably. But I have grown up with this war: even I want to talk about other things, sometimes."

“I appreciate it all the same." Khalid smiles. "Talking about nothing but politics and war isn’t a very good way to get to know each other as  _ people.  _ If this were Almyra, we would have been done with the politics and started on the feasting hours ago.” His smile turns wry. " Not that my people are really any better on the ‘getting to know you’ front, they’d just want to duel everyone.”

"Hah. Well... were this a matter that concerned us and not the Alliance, my people would never bother with something so distracting as a meeting to speak to our allies. Knowing my father... he would manage to send a letter and nothing more, before his advisors urged him back out and onto the field again." Dimitri sounds amused, and is that the slightest little hint of a smirk, there...?

“A letter, huh?” Khalid tilts his head, thoughtful. “What about you, Your Highness? How would you handle it if you were in charge?”

"Were I in charge... our partnership with the Alliance thus far has been nothing like that with Duscur. They are so intent on negotiations in ways that our Duscurian allies were not. When the Empire attempted to invade them, we came to their aid first. Hashed out all of our agreements afterward, with the immediate fighting handled. I would have thought the same would be possible here as well, only to find out that the sovereign duke of the Alliance spoke out against our involvement on their battlefields until agreements were drawn. I would have my troops break their line regardless of whatever paltry objections the Alliance could conjure up."

Khalid laughs. “You sound like _my_ father. Which isn’t a bad thing. But the Alliance doesn’t trust easily - which I also understand. Inviting a superior military force across your borders with nothing in writing sounds pretty scary. They’re just as cautious with us.”

"It's merely silly, to me. Their battle at the bridge lasted nearly a month and yet could have ended in mere days, had they accepted the aid of our soldiers already there. We could have easily invaded Duscur, perhaps even conquered it, once the Empire stood itself upon their doorstep. We certainly would have more to gain from it than defeating the Alliance, yet we did not." He lowers his voice, then, because he knows exactly what this sounds like. "I do not like allying myself with those who have so little faith in our morality. But it is not my place to say."

“You seem like a good man, Your Highness, and so does your father. For some people, though...faith is hard to come by. And not everyone practices the integrity they preach.”

"It proves to me that they do this only to gain, not in search of security. In Faerghus--in years past, at least--we do not merely become allies, but... like family, in a way. We and Duscur support one another, but not so that we may get something in return. If my father wishes to abide it for the sake of peace, however, so be it. I have no part in this." It almost looks like Dimitri is  _ pouting. _ "... the sooner I might return to battle, where my people are, the better."

Khalid studies him. “You fascinate me. Do you see yourself only as a warrior, then?”

The response is a bit hesitant. "I grew up learning war. Politics... not nearly so. I do not like it, but it is... not inaccurate."

"Oh, I disagree. There's definitely more to you than a warrior." Khalid's gaze is keen, but searching. "Do you regret having come here?"

"I... do not believe it to be a total waste." Dimitri glances oddly at Khalid; he's not sure how to read it. "I will admit that I'm not certain why my father insisted on having me here. Our borders require constant defense, a burden Duke Fraldarius should not have to bear alone, even if only for a short time."

Khalid's searching look only probes further. "He probably wanted you to meet the people who would be inheriting leadership of your neighbor nations, so you could establish relations with them. I, for one, am glad you came." He smiles.

Dimitri looks like there's  _ something _ he wants to say to that, and a little bewildered besides, but all he says is, "...I suppose. That only serves to remind me that we should be returning to the hall soon, lest we're missed."

Khalid hums. "I suppose. Wouldn't want to miss the look on Count Gloucester's face next time he disagrees with something your father says." He gives Dimitri a small, wicked grin. It fades after a moment, when he says, "Say, Your Highness, would you be amenable to joining me for tea after the formal dinner tonight?" They've had tea during afternoon recesses before, but always they've parted ways after dinner. Khalid wants to push that boundary and see where it gets him.

"Tea after dinner?" Dimitri thinks, but only for a beat. "The Alliance doesn't have the kinds of feasts that we have at our dinners. That is acceptable."

Khalid chuckles. "They don't have the kinds of feasts that  _ we _ have at our dinners, either. Besides, I had to come up with  _ some _ excuse to chat with you again." He gives the prince a wink.

The silence between them stretches almost awkwardly while Dimitri watches him. He's about to retract his request when Dimitri finally replies,  "I see...  I imagine that the Gonerils have you and your father staying in the same wing that we are in. I will need... time, after supper, but once I have taken care of my responsibilities, I would be happy to meet with you."

"Great! I look forward to it. Shall we, Your Princeliness?" Khalid stands and gestures along the path back to the fortress. Dimitri nods stiffly and together they make their way there, arriving a few minutes early.

"I must go and discuss a few details with my allies," Dimitri announces. "I will rejoin you in the great hall shortly."

"See you there." Khalid steps close and grasps his arm warmly with one hand just briefly, before he walks off to meet up with Hilda.  It leaves Dimitri standing in the middle of the path, slowly moving his own hand to lightly cover the spot where Khalid's was moments ago. Tea after dinner...an evening with Prince Khalid...

He's still standing there a minute later when Sylvain finds him. "Uh, Your Highness? Are you all right? You look a little...dazed."

" _ What?" _ Dimitri whirls, startled, and then frowns. "I'm fine." He looks away. "...this portion of the discussion does not require me. I will find my way back for dinner. Since I did not take my time alone earlier, I will do so now."

Sylvain scratches his head. "Not that I'm arguing, but didn't you just vanish for like two hours?"

"And it was filled with discussion. Enlightening discussion, but still."

Sylvain perks up. "Oh? And who did you have this enlightening discussion with? Lady Goneril, maybe? She's looking particularly gorgeous today."

Dimitri grunts. "Our charming friend from Almyra."

" _ Really. _ " Sylvain smiles widely. "Funny, I haven't noticed you having any long, enlightening discussions with anyone  _ else _ since we arrived."

"And who exactly would I have had such discussions with? Surely not you, as you've been preoccupied directing your attention to Miss Goneril and Miss Goneril alone, it would seem."

"Hey, what else can I do? It wouldn't be right to just ignore a woman as beautiful and vibrant as she is."

Dimitri arches an eyebrow. "I don't know, Sylvain. Since our arrival, she seems more taken with anyone and anything else." Come to think of it...  "She and Ingrid have been speaking quite a lot, actually."

" _ Ingrid? _ " Sylvain's shoulders droop. "Aw, man. Look closely at this face, Your Highness. This is the face of a man whose heart is breaking."

"Sylvain, I implore you to refocus on the task at hand, before I send you back to Faerghus myself."

"Alright, alright, no need to lecture me..." Sylvain sobers. "If you're going off on your own, just make sure you holler if you need anything, okay?"

"Yes, yes..." Dimitri waves him off.

* * *

The setting sun throws the shadows inside the fortress in strange directions as its light peers through the narrow windows and paints whatever it touches in a warm orange hue. Khalid wanders the halls with no particular destination in mind. Fódlan's Locket is an austere place, but each time he comes here, he finds something new and interesting to discover. Once, years ago, he discovered that House Goneril kept Almyran captives from border skirmishes as servants, some of them children. That was the very first thing he insisted on as a dealbreaker, back when he first convinced his father to try to make peace with Fódlan--all the prisoners get released, on both sides.

Fortunately, the things he tends to discover nowadays are much cheerier. Like gossip among the servants, all of whom are now employed and paid normally. He pauses in the hall when he hears two voices chattering away as a couple of the staff fold laundry. "...see His Highness this afternoon? Why, he even nodded at me to say hello when I passed!"  
  
"He _greeted_ you?" The other laundry folder sounds amazed. "He really must be in a good mood, then. Can you believe he finally let us dress him up like proper royalty for dinner?"

"Nothing short of a miracle from the Goddess herself," the first one agrees. "Who would've thought there's a dashing young king-to-be underneath that scowl?"

They giggle, and Khalid moves away before he's caught eavesdropping. Dimitri didn't dress up for dinner _last_ night--in fact, he's never once put on his princely regalia since the conference began, always dressed in his black armor and massive mantle and cape. His face feels warm as he hurriedly makes his way through the corridors to his guest chambers. There should be just enough time before he's expected at the table to change...so he does, choosing his fanciest silks with gold trim and putting on more jewelry than he normally does. It's not quite his _full_ royal raiment, but it's certainly more formal than what he's worn so far this week, aside from the first night after they arrived, when they all officially presented themselves. He tidies his hair and preens a little in the mirror before making his way down to dinner.

He doesn't even see Dimitri there at first, but he covers up his disappointment with appetizers and this ridiculously fluffy bread Fódlaners like to bake. He isn't disappointed for long, though--the prince arrives a few minutes late, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible as he slinks to his seat. But he certainly has _Khalid's_ attention. He wears a tunic in the same royal blue as the cape he isn't wearing now and a black jacket embroidered in silver and blue, lined with pristine, snow-white fox fur at the collar. Pants in a darker shade of blue tuck into tall, black boots, and although he wears no armor, a slim ceremonial sword hangs at his belt--a Faerghan tradition, Khalid now knows. His golden hair is swept back from the front and sides, highlighting his strong jaw, and even his eyepatch has been replaced with a smaller white one decorated with the Blaiddyd Crest in silver thread. And oh, the prince looks like Fódlan's goddess could have sent him here directly from her kingdom in the sky.

He also looks kind of uncomfortable, but Khalid can't blame him--Fódlan's nobles have a certain sense of fashion that includes high, stiff collars and covering every inch of one's body, for reasons Khalid cannot fathom.

Dinner is a bit of a blur, though Khalid keeps up his conversations with aplomb, letting his mouth run mostly on autopilot. Dimitri doesn't, but he doesn't usually talk much during meals anyway, so that's nothing new. They both wait only long enough for Holst Goneril and the Almyran and Faerghan kings to finish eating and stand before they, too, are getting up and fleeing the table to meet in the hall. "You look...radiant," Dimitri says.

The only thing keeping Khalid from stopping in his tracks at that is his mastery over the mask he wears. Or...near-mastery. His face heats up a little and he can't stop that from happening. "Ah...thank you. I was going to say that you look nothing short of dashing, yourself."

At least Khalid's not alone in blushing like a schoolboy. "Hardly," Dimitri mutters, fiddling idly with his collar. "It's...merely the finery."

Khalid looks up into his face. "No, it isn't," he insists, polite but certain. "I've seen plenty of people in finery. Most of them look like frigid peacocks who haven't answered a call of nature in far too long."  That earns him a snort and a smile, and--more importantly, in Khalid's eyes--a release of some of the obvious tension in Dimitri's shoulders. "So we agree that we're two lovely princes on our way to have a lovely teatime. Come with me."

Dimitri doesn't argue as they walk in comfortable silence to a small, enclosed courtyard where the last rays of daylight spill over everything, and where Khalid knows the moonlight will do the same when it gets fully dark. He asked one of the staff before dinner to prepare tea for them here, and so by the time they arrive, there's a little table boasting a plate of pastries (not too sweet, he told them) and an elegant set of teacups with a matching kettle filled with Almyran Pine. The staff has also apparently brought a bottle of wine and two large chalices, which Khalid didn't ask for but doesn't begrudge. They sit and Khalid pours the tea for them both, waving off Dimitri's vague protests about it, and soon they're engrossed in conversation again as they enjoy the repast.

After the first round of tea, Khalid uncorks the wine bottle and pours them both a generous cup. The walls of pleasantry and political alliance between them slowly crumble as the night goes on, leaving just two men with big dreams and bigger responsibilities looming on the horizon. Dimitri's tongue loosens enough to ramble about his plans for the future of his nation once the war is over and his father passes the throne to him. He speaks of ensuring that everyone, noble or common, has a voice that can be heard; that the strong will protect the weak, and the nobility will serve the people, rather than the other way around. Khalid knew there was more to Dimitri than his life of battle and strife, but to hear him speak so plainly about such a bright future emboldens him to be open about his own dreams, too.

He talks about the semi-open border they've managed to cultivate so far and the current negotiations as a stepping stone for even greater ambitions. He waxes poetic about fully open borders, not just between Fódlan and Almyra but everywhere; about ridding the world of the concept of 'outsiders' and ensuring that everyone, no matter how different they might be from those around them, has a place to belong. A home. He speaks with sparkling eyes of the plans he's made and the ideas he's had to reach for the stars and actually be able to catch them in his hand. Rarely does he allow himself to speak with such fervor or reveal the full breadth of his dreams, but the wine combined with the heady feeling of hope that's slipped past his defenses and taken root in his heart ever since he met Dimitri makes for powerful inspiration.

Despite the hope, he expects the same sort of answer he always gets when he lets his guard down enough to tell anyone of this, his fondest and most improbable wish. But when he finally stops talking, Dimitri's eye is soft; moved. "Yours is a conviction of a kind that my people aspired to, once... your dream is a beautiful one."

Khalid already feels warmer than he normally would in the cool night's breeze from the wine, but those words set his cheeks to reddening further. "Thank you. Usually, people use less kind words to describe it when I tell them about it, heh."

"Well... suffice it to say that, even if all we knew of you were those ideals, you would be welcome in Faerghus. We have not always been this warlike... and many of us, even I, am far from reaching such grand aspirations, but we are trying. Perhaps it is a shame that the Alliance exists between us: even had our nations discovered on another on our own, I'm certain we would have been great allies."

"Our nations, huh?" Khalid holds Dimitri's gaze. "What about me and you, are we great allies, too?"

Dimitri doesn't even hesitate before he says, "I consider you a worthy ally. Worthy of respect. And of trust."

"Really?" Khalid's voice is soft. "Huh. When you say that, I believe you."

"That makes me... quite glad to hear. It is no secret that many around us believe we're nothing more than brutes..."

"Clearly those people haven't done their homework." Khalid rests his chin in his hand. "Faerghan culture is so rich with history, the arts, literature and legends... And besides, who would ever say that about you? You're so kind, and eloquent, and handsome..."

Dimitri makes some kind of aborted noise and stammers into silence, staring at Khalid with a widened eye.  "...ah... you think that I'm handsome?" It comes out somewhere between amused and disbelieving.

_Oh, whoops._ "...did I say that out loud?" Khalid fiddles with his tea spoon. "Heh...well, yes, I do. Very handsome."

Dimitri leans back in his chair, face going red and saying nothing, until, "I could... very well say the same of you. You have had your own little group of young nobles quite taken with you since you got here, though I... know not whether you've actually noticed."

"Mm. I've noticed a bunch of them following me around. I've also heard some of the things they whisper when they think I'm not listening. It's...well. _They_ think it's flattering, I'm sure."

"Does... it bother you? I'm certain something can be done with but a mere word to Duke Goneril..." He leans forward again, suddenly more intense.  "I would like to hear them say such unseemly things about you, with me around."

Khalid blinks, his ears burning. "I mean...it's nothing I haven't heard before. Don't worry about it."

"That does not excuse it, and as you are an ally to their house, I'm certain the Gonerils would feel the same."

"Really, Your Highness, it's more trouble than it's worth." But his gaze lingers on Dimitri. "...you would really intervene, on my behalf?"

The prince fixes Khalid with a stern look. "I said earlier that I consider you my ally. Do you believe me?"

"...yes. I believe you. But an ally isn't the same as..." But Khalid thinks back to the way Dimitri's father speaks at the negotiating table, and the way Dimitri has spoken tonight, about the Duscurians being something like family to his people. "Heh. Well, maybe to you, it is. So I appreciate the sentiment."

"Good." Dimitri doesn't bother to hide the satisfaction on his face, hearing that. "Now then... let us go back to enjoying our night. This is perhaps the most pleasant this weather has been since my arrival here."

"Pleasant?" Khalid grins ruefully, shaking his head and shivering just a little in his thin silks. "It's chilly. But hold on, you said something a minute ago...you said you think I'm handsome. Is that right?"

"Of course." Dimitri ducks his head almost bashfully. "I may be missing an eye, but the other still works, I assure you. I'm certain that you aren't unaware of your looks, either."

The slight heat in Khalid's cheeks belies his nonchalant words. "No, it's true, I _am_ roguishly alluring. But I like hearing it from other people, so by all means, feel free to elaborate." He winks.

"...in Faerghus, it is very rare to hear one describe someone as 'beautiful' if they are not a woman or child." Dimitri puts down his chalice and leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. That blue eye studies Khalid's face closely.  "So I do not quite have the words for it. Perhaps 'beautiful' is the word, after all. You carry yourself in a way that men from my country do not, as well, and... I do not think it a bad thing."

Khalid swallows, feeling his whole face redden now. But even as Dimitri lessens the distance between them, he doesn't pull back. "Can't say I've ever had someone tell me that before. Uh...any of that, really." Green eyes study Dimitri right back. "Your eye is so mesmerizing, did you know that?"

"Hm. There are not many who stand to look me in the eye, so... it is not a sentiment I'm familiar with, I'm afraid." Dimitri smiles a little. 

"No?" Khalid's back to teasing, now. "Too intimidated by the tall, stately, immensely strong warrior-prince, huh? Well, their loss."

"I-- hah." Dimitri looks away first, clearly embarrassed. "You... are very liberal with your compliments."

"Only when they're deserved. I'm no flatterer, Your Highness."

"Ah, I see. In that case, you make me feel quite honored." Dimitri stands, glancing up at the moon.  "How much of Goneril's hillsides have you seen, thus far? Nighttime is the perfect time for rides on horseback."

The truth is that Khalid has seen a lot of them, since he often goes on long rides by himself when he visits, but what he says is, "I'm always up for a horseback ride and some sightseeing." He picks up his chalice, drains it, and gets to his feet...wobbling a bit. "Whoa." He steadies himself with a hand on the back of a chair and waves off Dimitri's concern. "I'm fine, I'm fine. You Faerghans seem to have an infinite tolerance for alcohol, I'm impressed."

They make it to the stables without fuss, but Khalid must still be at least a little unsteady because Dimitri pauses to survey the horses before choosing just one for them to share: his own big, brown, swift Phantasia. He helps Khalid up into the saddle first with one strong arm, then swings up to sit behind him. "Hands on the pommel," he instructs, and Khalid obliges, although there's honestly no need; he could stay ahorse with the strength of his thighs alone for quite a long time. Dimitri takes the reins with one hand on either side of Khalid and they're off, moving swiftly from a trot to a gallop, racing across the rocky plains toward the hills beyond. The wind on Khalid's face and in his hair feels so good--riding on horseback is a whole different--well, animal, from riding wyvernback, but it's nearly as thrilling. And this ride in particular is thrilling in...another way, too. The warmth and solidity of Dimitri behind him make him feel secure--safe. His broad chest is comfortable and comfort _ing_ , somehow, and Khalid becomes hyperaware of these sensations as they ride.

By the time they're far enough from the Goneril estate for the land to being rolling and sloping, they slow to a running walk, giving both the horse and themselves a breather. After a few minutes of this, Khalid is a little surprised to find that Dimitri's taking the excuse of the slower pace to gingerly wrap an arm around his waist.  Khalid leans back with a slight sigh. "This was a good idea."

"Yes, I imagine it would ruin my night for you to fall off of our horse."

Khalid laughs; he can hear the smile in the words, and he's so rarely heard Dimitri joke--in fact, has he ever?--that this feels like a precious gem of a moment. "I meant the ride, of course! But you knew that."

Eventually, they come to the top of a flowery hill overlooking a few villages down below. Dimitri reins them to a halt and they linger there. Khalid laments the cloud cover concealing the stars, but the villages have torches lit along the paths and candles twinkle from dwelling windows, and it's...nice. "You're so warm."

"I imagine that's how I survive Faerghus. And... why I almost cannot stand the weather here, during the day at least." 

"If you don't like the weather here, you'd _hate_ it in the region of Almyra where I live." Khalid grins into the darkness. "Surrounded by desert, warm and sunny almost year-round. Though we do have regions more like your Faerghus, in the north and east. Not nearly so frigid if what I've heard is true, but mountainous, and they get a full four seasons there."

"Hm." Dimitri falls silent for a minute or two before quietly saying, "As cold as my kingdom is, and as different as it may be from the rest of Fódlan, it is beautiful. I think you might enjoy it, even if only because it is unique."

"I have no doubt that I would enjoy it, even if I were freezing the whole time. I love visiting new places."

"... have you ever seen snow, Khalid?" Dimitri's arm tightens ever so slightly around him as he begins to rub little circles against his hip with his thumb.

"No, I never have. I hear it's amazing." He lets go of the pommel to hug Dimitri's arm closer to him instead.

"I would like to think I could be as devoted. Almyra sounds beautiful, and I would hate to let mere discomfort stop me from experiencing it."

"Almyra _is_ beautiful, and it's also huge. Where I live...the city rises up over the dunes from a distance with its tall spires and domed roofs, and the sky is often so clear that on wyvernback, the stars spread out above your head like an ocean...I think you would love it."

It takes another minute of silence for Dimitri to respond, and it's quiet enough when it comes out that maybe he's really only saying it to himself. "...if I should live to a time when I can leave Faerghus, knowing it is safe, perhaps... I would..."

Khalid doesn't reply immediately, either, but his silence is briefer. "...'if'? You don't sound very confident."

Dimitri sighs.  "I am twenty-two years old. Twenty-three, in a few months. This war has been going on since my father was my age... I do not mean to assume the worst of things, but it is possible, is it not? It's quite uncommon for those in my family to outlive whatever unrest defines their lifetime."

"Anything's possible. But isn't that what we're all here to do? Ensure the safety of your people and mine, and Leicester's?" Khalid turns just a little, glancing over his shoulder. "We can do it, Dimitri. --uh, Your Highness. I know we can."

"Please. My name is Dimitri. If you take no issue with my using your name, then you use mine, as well."

Khalid's smile grows wider. "Dimitri, then. I just didn't want to stumble across another one of those breaches of Fódlan etiquette I'm so good at finding," he finishes, wry.

"Oh, you have. But I see no use for such titles and formalities between allies. Nor between friends." 

"Mm, friends. I like the sound of that." Without really thinking about it, Khalid laces his fingers together with Dimitri's.

Dimitri hums thoughtfully, then. "I suppose that it is easier, now, to... feel hope, seeing that strides are being made to resolve this."

"Don't lose that hope," Khalid says, softer now. "Peace is around the corner. I can feel it."

Dimitri lets his cheek rest ever so lightly against Khalid's head.  "My stepmother. You remind me of her. Not in so many ways, merely... the way you speak of hope. And the way that you mean it, as you speak of it. I suppose that explains a great deal of why I enjoy your company so."

Khalid's heart is beating faster now, even though he still feels warm and serene. "I do mean it. And I enjoy your company too. Very much. You... _ see _ people, instead of only seeing where they're from or who their families are. It's rarer than you might think."

"Unfortunately, I know that I can hardly assure you otherwise. I could say the same, however, for you. Even the companions that I have grown up with... most days, I am not a person they are interested in associating with."

"What?" Khalid suddenly feels less serene. "Why not?"

"... this war... has changed all of us. Has beaten and broken us into the people that we are now. I can only suppose... that whatever Prince Dimitri existed before is their preference over whatever Dimitri exists now. But I hold no blame for them. Nor do I regret who I've become to lead my people."

"Abandoning a friend just because they've changed...you don't deserve that." Khalid catches himself, though, before he can pry too much. "But I suppose that's none of my business. Just know that I like _this_ Dimitri," he squeezes Dimitri's hand a little, "and I'd never turn you away from my door, war or not."

"... there is... a great deal you don't know about me." Dimitri sighs again, silently, and looks down at their entwined hands. "The Dimitri who exists on the battlefield... I understand if that is the Dimitri my companions shun. I am no longer ashamed of who I am at times... but I was, for a long time."

"Mm. You're right, there is a lot I don't know about you. But I'd like to learn."

"A part of me can only hope that you never see me that way."

Khalid chuckles, of all things. "I suppose there are things you don't know about me, as well. Like the fact that saying such a thing only makes me more curious." He's teasing, but he's not making light of whatever it is that's bothering Dimitri.

"You keep calling me a 'warrior prince'. It is not entirely accurate, yet not inaccurate. Have you heard of our crests, Khalid?"

“I have. And if I remember right, the Blaiddyd Crest is one of unparalleled strength, isn’t it?”

"It is. I've been besting men three times my size since I was old enough to hold a sword, with that strength. But it also means that... when I should lose myself in the midst of battle... my strength gets the better of me."

“I’m still waiting to hear the part that’s supposed to convince me to shun you.”

Dimitri goes quiet for a long moment.  "... I have done terrible things. Things unbecoming... no, things in complete opposition of the peace I claim to seek. I have reveled in killing... I still do, at times. Perhaps in the heat of battle, yes, but... is such a thing an excuse?"

"No, it isn't. But..." Khalid looks down at their hands now, too. "If you want to do better, then abandoning you is the last thing I would want to do. Muddling through alone...only makes things worse." It's more than just an opinion. He knows from experience, and it gives his words a certain weight. Dimitri must sense it; he lets go of the reins and wraps both arms around Khalid, now, ducking his head down to bury his face in the other man's shoulder.  It surprises Khalid almost as much as the joke had earlier, but he rubs his thumb gently across the back of Dimitri's hand. "...don't be afraid to reach out, Dimitri. I'll always reach back. I promise."

"That is... not a promise I could expect you to keep." Dimitri's quick to add, "but I... am grateful that it is a promise you would extend to me at all."

"I suspect you would do the same," Khalid replies softly, "were I to reach out to you."

"I would." Dimitri's voice shakes, overcome with some emotion, and Khalid can feel his breath hitch slightly in his chest, though no tears fall. "Yes, I would." He seems to pull himself together after a minute or two, taking up the reins with one hand and squeezing Khalid's with the other.

Khalid lets the quiet moment breathe before breaking it. "This view is gorgeous, but where to next, Your Princeliness?"

"I--I don't know. I... had not thought this far ahead. It grows late, as well... and I am tired." Not that Dimitri seems to want to let go of him, because that arm only wraps more tightly around his waist even as he says it.

"Well, much as I love a good night's sleep under the stars, we'd probably be missed in the morning," says Khalid, "so I suppose we should head back to the Locket." But he's not letting go, either.  They sit there just like that for another five or ten minutes of peaceful, companionable quiet before Dimitri shifts to take the reins in both hands and lead them back to the fortress.

In the stables, Dimitri helps Khalid down from the saddle, but doesn't let go of his hands right away. They look into each other's eyes for a moment, before Khalid realizes that Dimitri looks like he wants to say something, but isn't sure quite whether he should, or perhaps isn't sure how. "What is it?"

Dimitri opens his mouth, but the words that come out feel like a change in mood, a change in his train of thought. "Do you... need help returning to your rooms?"

Khalid doesn't, but he says, "Maybe I do..." Then, more serious and curious at once, "but you were going to say something else."

"It is nothing we cannot talk about later. At breakfast, perhaps, or afterward. Come." Dimitri loops an arm around his waist and leads him back inside.

Khalid may not need the help, but he takes the excuse to have Dimitri's arm around him anyway. "Dimitri, come on, you can't leave me hanging like that, I'll never get to sleep! I'll just wonder what it is all night long."

"I doubt it. I will brew you some chamomile myself, if I must. I imagine that tomorrow..." He tapers off and his voice quiets. "Will be a busy day. An early day." He sounds loath to think that tomorrow is the last day they're here in Goneril, as much as he was complaining earlier that he wants to return to the front lines as soon as possible.

Khalid sighs. "Well, if you're going to be stubborn about it, I'll take you up on the chamomile."

When they get to his chambers, he unlocks the door and lets Dimitri in. He half-expects the prince to make a comment about keeping the door locked, as many don't bother here inside a well-defended fortress, but no such comment is forthcoming. He pours himself a glass of water just to appease Dimitri, who appears to think he's much more of a lightweight than he is, and with growing amusement he endures Dimitri's prodding to make sure he's actually preparing for bed. Dimitri doesn't seem to realize what it sounds like when he coaxes Khalid to change into his sleeping clothes, and Khalid doesn't have the heart to point it out, so he just nods and waits for it to dawn on the prince. It's easy to see when it happens: Dimitri's face turns red as a tomato and he stammers his way into an explanation of how he's going to the kitchens to fetch the tea.

Khalid waits until he's gone to release his laughter. He's laughing in part because of that little display, certainly, but there's a hint of nervous, disbelieving joy in it, too. He's...never felt like this before, warm and soft about someone he's not afraid to be touched by--or, he realizes, left alone with in his bedroom. So many people are afraid of Dimitri, simply because they won't take the time to get to know him, and here's Khalid trusting him more after a month of knowing him than he trusts nearly anyone else, including people he's known all his life. It's awful, the way people shun such a kind and thoughtful man. But the selfish part of him is perversely glad, because it means he can have Dimitri all to himself.

While he's waiting, he starts up a fire and pulls pillows and cushions off the bed and various other pieces of furniture around the room to make a pile of them, almost like a little nest, in front of the fireplace. He changes into his sleeping robe, long with flowing sleeves but mostly open in the front down to his waist and made of a thin material that keeps him cool on warm nights--which none of the nights here in Leicester have been, but that's what the fire is for. He sits down to lounge back in his nest and wait.

Dimitri knocks lightly when he returns and doesn't come in until Khalid calls quietly for him to do so. He moves through the room toward the fireplace and abruptly almost drops the little tray he carries with tea and snacks on it, upon seeing Khalid there in his robe. Khalid has the grace to bite back a laugh and manages to feel flattered instead of embarrassed or wary--it's almost impossible to imagine Dimitri being anything less than 100% sincere. Khalid smiles and gestures for the other man to join him in the cushion pile, which he does after setting the tray down carefully on the floor.

It normally takes Khalid quite a while to quiet his mind enough to sleep. Even tea and a roaring fire haven't really been enough, while he's been here in Goneril. But as he lounges there with Dimitri, chatting in hushed tones about whatever comes to mind and drinking chamomile together, a pleasant drowsiness creeps up on him, making his eyes feel heavy. Even so, it's Dimitri who falls asleep first, which means Khalid learns firsthand that the Faerghan prince likes to cuddle in his sleep. With a blond head of hair resting on his chest, a strong arm wrapped around him, and a good portion of Dimitri's weight pressing him into the cushions, Khalid gives up quickly on the thought of extracting himself and sleeping in the bed. This development suits him just fine, though, and soon enough he drifts off as well, holding Dimitri close.


	2. What the Future Brings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "While I do hope the war ends quickly, I'd rather not wait that long to see you again." Khalid's smile turns mysterious. "But I suppose we'll see what the future brings."
> 
> "Hah. Saying it that way... you sound as if you're plotting something already. I suppose that it may truly be soon, if my father should agree to this arrangement you've suggested."
> 
> "Here's hoping." Khalid squeezes Dimitri's shoulder in return and lets go. "Now, the summit may be over, and I may be obliged to turn in at a reasonable hour, but there's still some evening left before then. Would you care to join me for dinner in town?"
> 
> Dimitri, despite knowing full well he should be preparing for tomorrow and then getting to sleep, says, "I... suppose that I can probably spare an hour."
> 
> The smile Khalid gives him is so incredibly pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was posted for Dimiclaude Birthday Week 2020, day 5: Custom & Culture, Family.

When Khalid wakes, he wakes in bed, tucked carefully under the blankets. Which is strange, once he remembers where he was when he fell asleep--and who he was with. He sits up with a yawn, glancing around the room. Empty. He thought that perhaps what happened last night meant...something, but if Dimitri's already left, then perhaps not. He forces himself to bottle up the stark disappointment and push it to the back of his mind, getting up to get ready for the day.

When he arrives (a little late, as usual) for breakfast, it isn't Hilda who's saved him a seat this time, but Dimitri. He tries not to let that open up the bottle, but even Khalid can't stop a sliver of hope from escaping it. "Good morning, Your Highness," he says, as polite and friendly as ever, taking his seat and waving one of the staff over to bring him coffee.

At least, he _thought_ he was being as polite and friendly as ever, but apparently not quite. After a few minutes, Dimitri leans slightly closer to him with a concerned look on his face. "You're quiet today, Khalid. Are you feeling all right this morning?"

Is it possible, Khalid thinks, that everything that happened last night--all the things Dimitri said--were simply the sorts of things that are natural between friends in Faerghus? He's read a bit about the Kingdom's courtship rituals, and they're all quite formal. Maybe such freeform flirting and...hand-holding and such don't enter into it. He smiles. "I'm fine. I was just wondering whether you might like to go for a little walk during the first break in the proceedings today? If I recall, there was something you wanted to tell me."

Dimitri agrees readily, if quietly, and only Khalid notices Sylvain silently widening his eyes on Dimitri's other side--his blind side, as it happens--and turning immediately to Hilda who's seated on _his_ other side to whisper something or other. He can imagine what it is they're whispering about, but it isn't that hard to ignore them when his mind keeps drifting back to cuddling up against Dimitri's broad chest with strong arms encircling him, half the buttons on his shirt undone because he was too warm so close to the fire...he manages to eat and keep up a semblance of conversation, nonetheless. Dimitri seems a bit distracted, too, but Khalid doesn't ask.

During the first part of the meeting, the two of them are seated across the table and a little ways down from each other. It seems as though every time he catches Dimitri out of the corner of his eye, the Faerghan prince is looking at him. And the more he notices that, the harder it is for Khalid not to look back. He keeps his focus on the negotiations where it belongs, but the moment the clock strikes eleven--breaktime--he's out of his seat, finally meeting Dimitri's eye and subtly tilting his head toward the door before slipping out.

Dimitri follows him soon after, stepping out onto the balcony of a room not too far from the great hall. Khalid turns at the footsteps and smiles, more genuinely now than he did in front of everyone else. Dimitri sets a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Khalid...are you certain everything is all right?"

Khalid briefly rests his hand over Dimitri's. "I'm certain. The only thing that's bothering me is the curiosity about what you were going to say last night that's killing me." With a bit of a twinkle in his eye.

"It's nothing so... groundbreaking. I merely..." Dimitri looks away, taking a second to find his words. "... for the first few weeks that I was here, I thought of nothing but returning to Faerghus, to the fighting. Suddenly I do not want to, and... what a horribly selfish thought to have."

Khalid hums softly, noncommittal. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I have wanted... to see other places." Then Dimitri seems to decide that he hasn't said enough. "I have thought about the day that I might see Almyra..."

"I see. You know, not everything you want for yourself is selfish. You're allowed to want things of your own."

"Is it not selfish when my priorities must be elsewhere? So many of my people await us to save them, and here I am, thinking of... ugh. They depend on me, and I haven't the time to fantasize."

Khalid's chest flutters with a hint of excitement, but when he speaks, it's in a practical tone. "First of all, just wanting it isn't selfish. But second..." The twinkle in his eye turns into the gleam of wheels turning and schemes hatching. "According to the agreements we made here at this summit, my father is going to provide troops and supplies to your armies. And in the agreement, it says that each recipient of aid may inspect what's provided and make requests if necessary. Which means, of course, that someone has to perform those inspections." He grins. "It's a very important job."

Dimitri stares at him, just the slightest bit flabbergasted, and... chuckles in disbelief, "I... even with such a provision in place, I know not whether I could afford to make such trips. Our circumstances necessitate that my father stay in Fhirdiad, as often as possible, or at least far enough from our western borders that his personal scions might continue to guard our home. With my stepmother ill... well, regardless. I don't know that I will have the time nor opportunity to leave..."

"Dimitri, you're the commander of the Kingdom's armies on the field, aren't you?" Khalid speaks like this is all obvious. "Who else is qualified--authorized, even--to make decisions about what you need? You were wondering what your purpose at this summit was. This can easily be it. I'm sure the other eastern lords can hold the line until you return. And it's not as though you'd be gone _that_ long." By now, he almost sounds like he's at the negotiating table--reasonable and convincing, in a way that makes it seem like a done deal already. "Not to mention--well, you've met my father. It would go a long way toward earning his trust and respect if the prince of Faerghus were to visit Almyra and show what he's capable of."

Dimitri thinks about it for a long while, quietly looking out toward the Throat. Khalid doesn't interrupt him, patient. Eventually, Dimitri says, "I must ask my father. I... value his opinion, though what's more, I would need his understanding to do such a thing regardless."

Khalid nods, "Of course. And if there's an emergency and they need you urgently, they can send a messenger--I'll leave one of my battalion's wyverns with them for just that purpose, and the second you receive the message you can be in the air and on your way back across the Throat. And if you'd like _me_ to talk to your father, I'd be glad to."

"I doubt it will be necessary. If anything... it has been a long time since I last sat to tea with him alone. Though..." Dimitri clears his throat. "Though I cannot say I feel so inclined to... mh. Fly."

"No? It's by far the fastest way to travel across the border. Have you never ridden a flying mount before?"

"My effectiveness extends only as far as my stance is solid on the ground. I do not take... well, to heights."

"Ah, I see." Khalid makes a show of thinking about it, although he's considered this for a while now already. "Would you be able to do it as a passenger instead?"

To Dimitri's credit, he does seem to mull it over. "I would assume not. Even in my own home... the uppermost rooms of my father's palace, I would much rather stay away from."

Khalid shrugs. "In that case, I can lend you my fastest horse, should the need arise--my people breed very swift horses, you know."

"That, I must say, sounds far more agreeable." Now, Dimitri's eye seems to look far away, as though he can see what this trip to Almyra would be like in his mind's eye.

"Then it's settled." Khalid lays a hand on his arm. "You speak with your father, and I'll speak with mine. And if your people should need you while you're away, rest assured that I will see you home as quickly as I can--personally, if I must."

"Would that not be a burden upon you?" Dimitri has a slightly guilty look, realizing belatedly that he hasn't heard much of anything about what Khalid's responsibilities are in Almyra, what if anything his parents entrust to him, and he hasn't asked. And in the back of his mind is the thought that, allies or no, this is a war he has trouble accepting that they're involving anyone else in. "Does that not _endanger_ you, as well?"

Khalid chuckles. “Spending time away from home is no burden, and I would be branded a coward if I shied away from danger.” Which, in fact, gives him another idea--given the response he's getting, probably a better one--but he doesn’t voice it just yet. He doesn’t want to get either of their hopes up before he's come up with a clearer plan.

Dimitri thinks it over, and doesn't seem to want to voice whatever additional objections he comes up with. He laughs a little, soft and disbelieving. "You... seem intent on this, my friend. But you have convinced me that it is worth attempting, at least."

“Glad to hear it.” _Friend, huh?_ Khalid wonders whether Dimitri has any intention of acknowledging...whatever that was last night. “I suppose this is our last day here, huh.”

"Mm. So it is. It has been... an enlightening experience, certainly. But I am also glad that I can say... I came away having made not only good allies, but friends, as well."

Khalid smiles. “I can say the same. Though you know...I’ve attended a lot of diplomatic functions, but this is the first time I’ve ever spent the night with someone at one.” He winks.

"I--" Dimitri instantly chokes on his words and has to take a second to cough into his hand. "Y-yes, I would have assumed so--"

“Should I assume the same is true of you, Your Princeliness?” Khalid looks _so_ innocent.

"Well, I... don't normally sl-- share rooms with anyone _regardless_ of where I am. Even in battle, I have... my own tent."

Khalid pauses, shifting so easily from teasing to a genuine little smile. "In that case, I'm honored to have had your company last night."

"A-as am I." Their recess ends before Dimitri can say that he's thought about writing letters, or about how he might be able to send gifts, perhaps, during his lulls in combat, or while he's in Arianrhod which he often is, and he's certain there are many things there that Khalid would love to see... So instead, he gives Khalid a final glance and says only that they should get back to it. And they do.

* * *

The rest of the negotiations on the last day are largely a formality. The accords have been finalized, broad strokes worked out, responsibilities assigned; all that's really left is for the three nations' leaders to sign the written agreement. But because this is Leicester, they have to make a big production out of restating every point and giving every lord the chance to accept or reject them all. It's the most tedious eight hours of Khalid's life, but he makes an effort to keep focused, just in case anyone tries to reject a point or introduce some loophole or something. Fortunately, no one else wants to be there any longer either, and no objections are raised.

Once the two kings and the sovereign duke have signed the documents, the assembly finally adjourns, and Khalid wastes no time before making his way over to Dimitri while everyone's busy mingling and chatting. "So, when are you leaving?"

"My father and his advisors won't be leaving until late tomorrow morning, though... Felix and I will likely depart before dawn. He'll be stationed in the mountains in the center of Fódlan. I will be traveling beyond them, to a city on our western border. I assume you are... returning straight to Almyra, yes? "

Khalid hums thoughtfully. "Perhaps. My father and his entourage will, of course. I may stay here for another few days just to finalize some of the finer points with Holst."

"Finer points... I see. I hope that... you are able to enjoy your time in Fódlan more peacefully, at least. Should you return later only for war, it would be nice if you could... relax."

"Well, I was relaxed last night. So thank you for that." For once, he isn't teasing--he really means that. "And don't worry, Hilda and I have been friends for a while. We know how to take our fun where we can find it." He grins.

"I see." Dimitri nods. "Then I'm glad that you will be in good hands... If I don't get to see you come morning, I suppose this is goodbye, for now."

"Oh, I don't intend to miss your departure. I'll be here at dawn to see you off."

Dimitri chuckles to hear that. "You haven't woken up early a single day that we have been here, Khalid. Though I'm flattered... I wouldn't ask for such effort from you for this. We will see one another again, you can be certain of that."

"Of course we will. But who said anything about sleeping?"

"Do not be absurd. There's no need for that." Dimitri gives Khalid a _look._ "You said yourself that you still have work to do here. Do not force yourself."

Khalid adopts an exaggeratedly dramatic tone. "Oh, I do. _Soooo_ much work. So much, in fact, that I _might_ just have to stay up all night to finish it."

Dimitri reaches out and grips him by the arm to emphasize the firmness of his point, with more strength than he means to. "I mean it. You should not neglect your sleep, even in times of relative peace, and especially not if you plan on joining us in battle soon."

At first, Khalid tenses up--his instinct when someone reaches for him like that is to run. But it's Dimitri, and Khalid would be lying if he said the strong grip coming from _him_ didn't send a little shiver down his spine, though he represses it as best he can, even as he looks up with eyes slightly widened. His smile returns, belatedly and less genuine this time. "I'm just kidding, Your Highness, relax."

Dimitri isn't sure what to think of that reaction, and it didn't _seem_ like Khalid was joking...he's said and done a number of similarly minorly absurd things since they met. But he nods and awkwardly lets go. "Good. You slept much less last night than usual. So..."

"So you want to make sure I get my beauty sleep tonight, I know. But what about you? You get up at dawn practically every day, or so I gather."

"Thereabouts, yes. I would imagine I sleep as much as you do, merely... earlier. Do you _normally_ deprive yourself of sleep in such a fashion, though? You seem almost eager to do so." Dimitri's speaking carefully, because even if he finds himself suddenly concerned by the notion that _maybe Khalid doesn't take care of himself,_ he's not trying to needle him over it.

Khalid suddenly wonders why Dimitri seems so invested in his sleeping habits. No one in Almyra ever pesters him about such things--if he doesn't get enough sleep, he suffers the consequences, and that's lesson enough. "I wouldn't say 'deprive.' I'm a night owl, yeah, but I usually take afternoon naps."

Dimitri gives him another look, but instead of scolding him again, he softly asks, "May I ask you an honest question?"

Khalid cocks his head, curious. "Sure."

"Do you intend to involve yourself in this war? Personally, that is."

"If I did, would that be a problem?"

"No." Dimitri shakes his head. "That is your decision to make and, under the terms of our alliance, more than allowed. I ask because I know there is no way for you to have faced Imperials in battle, and... it gives me some concern. Not for our efforts, but for you."

The kneejerk response comes out first-- "No need to worry about me, I can handle myself." But then Khalid pauses; he's gotten the sense that things in Faerghus are different, that the Kingdom's people band together much more readily, and he reminds himself that Dimitri probably doesn't mean to imply anything derogatory with this concern of his. He softens his tone a bit. "What I mean is, my people are like yours--the royal family is expected to lead in battle. Not only that, but a noble position can be _won_ through combat, even the throne. So..." Something briefly flickers in his eyes, a certain hardness. "Staying alive just may be my greatest talent." Then he smiles, to take the edge off all that.

"I don't doubt your skills," Dimitri replies with no hesitation. "If anything... from my conversations with Hilda, I have no doubt you would sooner downplay your own talents than reveal all of your secrets. What I mean is... that in spite of everything, speaking to you has shown me your values, and more than that... I've come to see your faith in people. Even understand it, on some level. But you will come to see that... the Adrestians have no such kindness in them. I have seen the atrocities they commit without hesitation. They go so far as to sacrifice their own for the sake of shallow victories. I will not stop you, nor dissuade you, nor do I underestimate you, only... pray that you will be safe, wherever you go."

Khalid takes a quiet moment to gather his thoughts, looking up at Dimitri with soft eyes again and thinking about what a different person he is underneath the gruff exterior that's all most people bother to see. He places a gentle hand on Dimitri's shoulder. "Thank you. And although I've heard a lot about _your_ prowess on the battlefield, I wish the same for you, my friend." He pauses, and then his smile turns a tad cheeky. "Who knows, maybe I'll get to see that prowess for myself sometime soon."

"Considering where I will be... I hope not." Dimitri hesitates, but puts his hand on Khalid's arm, and gives it a light squeeze. "If I could have things my way, you would never see me that way. But... I suppose that all I can ask for is that our next meeting will see us met with peace, and not across a battlefield."

"While I do hope the war ends quickly, I'd rather not wait that long to see you again." Khalid's smile turns mysterious. "But I suppose we'll see what the future brings."

"Hah. Saying it that way... you sound as if you're plotting something already. I suppose that it may truly be soon, if my father should agree to this arrangement you've suggested."

"Here's hoping." Khalid squeezes Dimitri's shoulder in return and lets go. "Now, the summit may be over, and I may be _obliged_ to turn in at a reasonable hour, but there's still some evening left before then. Would you care to join me for dinner in town?"

Dimitri, despite knowing full well he should be preparing for tomorrow and then getting to sleep, says, "I... suppose that I can probably spare an hour."

The smile Khalid gives him is so incredibly pleased. "Then let's go. You know, if you only have an hour to spare, it would be faster if we traveled into town by wyvern." His tone is casual. "I know you don't like heights, but I wouldn't have to take us very high just to get to town from here."

The second that the word 'wyvern' comes up, Dimitri pales and glances away. "Khalid, I truly... it is not a good idea."

Khalid holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "All right, all right. Horseback it is." But when they get to the stables, the twinkle in his eye is back. "No need to take two horses, is there? Others here may need them, after all."

Dimitri is much relieved once horses are decided on, though he's almost just as tense at that suggestion, for different reasons. "You... have a point. No need to drag two of them out of the stables." He mounts in front this time, but still offers Khalid an unnecessary hand up. Khalid takes it anyway and swings up into the saddle, resting his hands lightly on Dimitri's waist as they set out.

Khalid takes care to keep tabs on Dimitri's comfort level as they go. Fortunately, it isn't too long before he seems his usual self again, and Khalid can relax and enjoy the ride. When they arrive in the village below Goneril's estate it's to a few obvious whispers, though Dimitri doesn't seem to notice and Khalid ignores them, as he always ignores whispers aimed in his direction. "I suppose that now would be a good time for me to ask," Dimitri says: "I know this is far from your first foray into Fódlan's culture, but... how different is it from yours?"

"Very," Khalid says with a grin. "And I suspect Faerghus is even further from it, from the little I know. For one thing, everyone in Fódlan is allergic to touching each other."

"Ah, that would be a product of the plague."

Khalid's jaw drops a little at the sheer straight-faced nonchalance. "Whoa, _what_ plague?"

"Mn. A serious illness, utterly debilitating when caught. Though in the four or so centuries since, we've only become more hygienic." Dimitri gives him the slightest of smiles before he pats his shoulder and walks off into the market, too pleased with himself.

Khalid stares after him until the laughter comes bubbling out, honestly a little impressed that the oh-so-serious prince of Faerghus isn't above joking about a horrific event that probably claimed thousands of lives.

* * *

Dinner is quiet, but not awkwardly so. They converse in low tones, ignoring the looks they get from people who recognize them both. In particular, Khalid thinks, they recognize _him_ , not just for his position but because Goneril is possibly the single most uncomfortable place for Almyrans in all of Fódlan. For all that the Gonerils themselves have been nothing but receptive to his overtures, the same can't be said of the people they govern, who have lost friends and family to the constant border skirmishes that used to plague them and have grown up fully believing all the cruel stereotypes. No doubt they're expecting this entire alliance to end up as some sort of scam as a prelude to invasion.

But tonight, he finds it much easier than usual to shrug it all off. Something about Dimitri makes those obstacles seem less dire, arrests his attention in a way people usually don't. It isn't that Khalid dislikes people--he likes them very much, in fact. But he learned long ago never to let his guard down around anyone, not even his own parents. They don't have any ill intent toward him, of course, but they're not always forthcoming with their motives or plans, either. Sometimes they'll do something just to test him, to keep him on his toes. Even Hilda, who he'd venture to say might be his best friend if he had one of those, has her moments of ignorance to the hurt she causes with her casual words. She's improved a lot over the years, especially once he managed to pluck up the courage to correct her, but a lifetime of prejudice takes time to overcome. At least she's trying at all. But Dimitri...

Perhaps it's his people's long-standing alliance with Duscur, although hostilities with their other northern neighbor continue unabated, so perhaps not. No, Khalid would bet money that it's just Dimitri himself, the softness and kindness that he hides under that prickly shell. As Khalid has pointed out to him, he truly sees people--and how many times in Khalid's life has he felt truly seen, without rejection? And Dimitri is so genuine, so earnest, even when the polite thing would be to keep his opinions to himself or lie. Most of the other delegates at the conference ended up scorning the prince for the harsh way he spoke to them, but Khalid adored watching him stay silent for hours only to pipe up with a shrewd insight that everyone else was too diplomatic to bring up.

And aside from all that, Khalid just _likes_ him. Likes him a lot. Feels compelled to stare at him and watch the light make his pretty eye gleam, watch the subtle changes in his face that nonetheless express so much and decipher them like a code. Loves listening to him talk--could, and does, do it for hours at a time and never get sick of it. His thoughtful words, his rich voice, the way he seems almost to transform when he gets riled up. Yes, Khalid enjoys dinner.

On the ride back, it's Khalid who mounts first and takes the reins, so he can reach down and help Dimitri into the saddle instead. The prince goes along with it without comment and rests a hand on Khalid's waist to steady himself as they ride. The trip back to the fortress is mostly silent, and Khalid has a feeling it's because Dimitri is realizing the same thing he is, now: it really _is_ about to be goodbye, this time. So while the Locket is still in the distance, just visible over the hilltops, he deviates from the main road to follow a smaller path instead.

"... do you plan to tell me where we're going, Khalid, or is it meant to be a surprise?" Dimitri asks with only a minimum of wariness.

Khalid glances over his shoulder briefly with a smile. "It's a surprise." They ride for another ten minutes or so, until the path becomes steep and then levels out on top of a mostly flat hill. Coincidentally (or not at all), the sun happens to be going down right now, sinking slowly over the mountains and sparkling on the distant sands that stretch away to the east like an ocean. "I figured I should pay you back for the lovely view you showed me last night."

Dimitri seems only a little intimidated by the height, as he takes in the vista that spans both of their homelands. "You didn't need to repay me... but I cannot complain about such a view."

"No, I didn't need to. But I didn't want to go back just yet, either." Khalid squints all the way out to the eastern horizon and points. "You can't see it from here, but my father's palace is a few hundred miles from the border, that way."

"Hm... what was it? Tall spires, roofs of gold? It sounds a great deal like something I would read in a storybook, in my younger years... I can only hope that I might see it one day. It must be stunning, to get such praise from you."

"It is. But you know, I read storybooks about Fódlan, too--Faerghus' infamous Silver Maiden, the sights of Enbarr, the canals of Derdriu. Famous battles at the Throat, of course," he adds, wry. "Great military heroes who once fought _our_ great military heroes and were deemed worthy opponents. I'm told not many stories from Almyra actually make it over the border in the other direction, though."

"No, most of our cultures are still insular even within the continent. Though I will say that you all have quite the reputation in Faerghus. The strength of your swords, and of your determination. Felix has spent quite a good chunk of his time here speaking with your companions about your techniques in battle, and though I doubt he'll take to the saddle of a wyvern any time soon..."

Khalid smiles. "Well, if Felix would like to accompany you when you visit, I'm sure everyone would be glad to test their mettle against him. They would have a lot of respect for his skill, if what you've told me is true. But they would _love_ to see your strength in action."

"I would not mind showing it. I don't imagine my weapon is very common there, but I suppose there are other ways I could demonstrate my Crest?" He's normally not all that fond of showing off, but if this is for Khalid... "But you will also have to show me how you fight, as well. Some companions of mine wield the bow, though as you can imagine, I don't often get to see them in battle, and I'm certain their techniques differ from yours."

"Hmm..." Khalid dismounts so he can turn to look up at Dimitri, holding out a hand to help him down as unnecessarily as the prince had done. His eyes gleam, brilliant in the saturated light. "I know how we can open the people's minds a bit more on this alliance, on all sides, so that maybe we'll get to keep it after the war ends. Imagine a cross-continent fighting tournament, held in Almyra's biggest stadium...where our peoples could learn respect for one another the way they like best: in the clash of steel."

Dimitri immediately takes to the idea, though the first thing out of his mouth is, "I don't know whether you merely want a reason to hold a feast or two... but I doubt that it would take much convincing at all to get something of the sort organized."

"Exactly! And you say that like wanting a reason to hold a feast and wanting people to learn how to reach out to each other are two different things." Khalid shakes his head. "Do you know how I convinced Holst and Nader to start the peace talks in the first place? All I did was sit them down to have a drink. That's it. By the time they were done, they were bosom buddies."

"It will be... interesting, to see what state our continent is even in by the time the war reaches its end. Perhaps I can mention it to my father as well, when I speak to him about your troops." ****

"I know exactly what state it will be in. I can see it. Feel it on the wind." Khalid takes in a slow breath, lets it out. "I've been working my whole life for this, Dimitri. I won't stop until it's done."

"You're far more certain than I. I only hope that you're right." The more Dimitri thinks about all of this, the more he can't really help but fall back into his older mindset; not quite pessimistic, but... assuming at least that this war probably won't be ending in his lifetime. But he still smiles, and looks back out at the view. "Right. So long as I can, I will be beside you, working for that day as well."

"I'm glad. I couldn't ask for a better partner in--well, it's not exactly _crime_ , is it?" Khalid chuckles. "But you know what I mean."

Dimitri's breath silently catches at the word 'partner.' "Mm... though I will be glad to feel the cold of home again, I will miss it here. And... I will try to write you, when I can. Keep you informed as to how we fare here in Fódlan."

"I look forward to receiving those letters, and writing some of my own." Khalid glances over, sidelong and brief. "And I hope to hear not only how Fódlan fares, but how _you_ do. I don't think I've ever met anyone like you, Dimitri."

"There are plenty others like me, within and outside of Faerghus." But he can't hide his ears going red, or keep himself from looking away in his embarrassment.

Khalid makes a thoughtful sound. "There are plenty who share things in common with you, sure." With a subtle movement, he slips his hand into Dimitri's, though he's still looking out at the purpling sky. "But I'm not standing here watching the sun set with any of _them."_

Dimitri looks down to see their hands, but doesn't mention it, quickly looking back out instead. "I... see." A few questions linger on the tip of his tongue that he doesn't know where to start asking, or if he _should_ ask them, or if he'll merely ruin everything. All at once he's thinking again about feelings he's been trying to comb through for weeks without directly acknowledging them...

Khalid glances over again, watching the tiny shifts in his expression. "What is it?"

Dimitri has to keep looking away, because if he looks at Khalid now-–he doesn't actually know what he'll do, if he looks at him. He remembers, too, something Khalid said about Hilda. "When... you return home—I imagine that you of all people, you would be returning to someone, as well."

Khalid had a feeling it was something like this, but still, hearing it aloud is different and it's his turn to get a bit red in the face with a slightly nervous chuckle. "Me? No."

"Really?" Dimitri still trains his eyes on the horizon. "I would have... thought... you seem the sort to be very single minded in your pursuits. I imagined there would be someone by now who would have piqued your interests, and..." Dimitri nearly trips over himself to walk it back once he thinks about what he's saying, and what he just dared to actually _ask_ him. "I apologize, I was not--I did not think. It isn't my place to ask such questions of you, I... am sorry."

"Don't apologize." Khalid turns to face Dimitri. "We aren't princes out here. We're just Khalid and Dimitri. You can ask me anything you want." He considers whether he really wants to bring the mood down by telling him the whole truth and decides...he'll do it some other time. A partial truth will do for now. "I suppose, now and then, there has been someone who caught my eye, but..." He shrugs. "I've found that few on either side of the mountains really seem to understand me."

"I--I see." Dimitri can't help his disappointment, given who he _thinks_ it is, but still manages to at least hide it under... what is objectively his usual nervousness in talking about these sorts of things. "It... will change soon, I think. Once peace finally comes to Fódlan... I think there will be more here who will understand you. More who will see your optimism for what it is, and not merely... empty hope. I wish you... the best of luck, in that endeavor."

Khalid takes a moment and then tugs on Dimitri's hand. "Dimitri, look at me."

Dimitri gets the feeling he probably shouldn't... but does, eventually.

"There's already someone who understands me. Someone who wants not just peace but friendship between our peoples, as much as I do. Who doesn't judge others based on trivial things like where they come from and what they look like. And _that's_ the sort of person who catches my eye." Khalid grins, then, though his face is still too warm and it's a bit of a struggle to keep his tone even. "Though someone tall and fair with big muscles and a lovely voice wouldn't hurt, either."

Dimitri doesn't know what to say, and it's obvious the way Khalid's laying it out, but he's also struggling just a little to fathom it, to be _sure_ that Khalid means it that way, and he just...flounders for a bit. He unintentionally squeezes Khalid's hand a bit too tightly until he manages, "Really? I, th-that is--"

"Really. I feel...drawn to you." Khalid doesn't pull his hand away, even when the pressure gets to be a little too much. He scratches at the back of his head with his other hand. "Maybe that sounds strange, heh. But--I really like you, Dimitri."

"I... I like you, as well." Dimitri isn't sure what else to do or say, his mind blanking. He glances down at their hands, and lifts his other one to cover Khalid's.

Khalid steps closer, remembering how warm and safe he felt on the horseback ride last night, and curled up with Dimitri by the fire afterward...surely, he thinks, being a _little_ forward is okay? "I was hoping you'd say that. ...would you mind, if I...I mean, people do kiss here in Fódlan, don't they?" His grin is cheeky, but shaky.

"They... do." Not that Dimitri says it with much certainty, but he's still surprised this is happening at all. "I--I would not mind, if. If you wish."

"I do. So, ah...you'll have to come down here." To Khalid's credit, he does push up onto his toes in an attempt to meet Dimitri in the middle.

Dimitri leans down hesitantly at first, and he doesn't really know what he's doing--he's never so much as thought of kissing someone before. He hopes that Khalid has, or at least that he's willing to find out how, once they're close enough.

Khalid has, but not much. Still, he's pretty confident when he presses his lips to Dimitri's and brings his other hand up to one broad shoulder to steady himself.

Dimitri's hand finds his waist and unintentionally starts drawing Khalid closer the longer they kiss, pressing just a little more firmly against the small of his back. When he pulls away for a breath, most of his face is red with embarrassment, but his gaze is so tender as he looks down at Khalid.

Khalid puts the heels of his boots back on the ground again and peers up at Dimitri with a bit of wonder, before he laughs lightly and buries his face in the thick fur at Dimitri's shoulder, just for a second. When he brings his head back up, he's smiling and his cheeks are pink. "That was nice."

Dimitri lets an arm wrap loosely around Khalid's waist, pulls him closer, and ducks his head until their foreheads are resting together. "May I... kiss you again?"

Khalid lets go of Dimitri's hand only to loop his arms around his neck instead. "Yes, please do."

And this time, even though he's still not entirely confident, Dimitri practically lifts Khalid off his feet to kiss him, and so carefully cups his face with his other hand. It doesn't last as long, but this time it's Dimitri's turn to hide his face, as he leans down to nuzzle against Khalid's neck.

Khalid chuckles. "You'd think we were a couple of teenagers, sheesh." Then he's blushing again as he says, "Though anytime you want to pick me up like this again, be my guest."

"I'm sorry. I've never... hm." Dimitri hasn't put him down yet, and doesn't really seem inclined to after hearing _that_. "...I have never been like this with someone, before."

"Hey, you're not the only one getting red in the face here. I...haven't done anything like this in a long time, either." Khalid lets go of Dimitri's neck with one hand to brush the hair gently out of his face and run his fingers through it.

"And yet you have far more experience than I." Dimitri maneuvers carefully to sit down on the hilltop without setting Khalid down, until the other man sits in his lap. "Girls have attempted to... _court_ me, in the past. Some fairly recently. You are the first person that I've kissed, though."

Khalid's a little amazed to find himself here in Dimitri's lap and can't stop grinning like an idiot. "Oh, I wouldn't say 'far more.' But I'm surprised to hear that you haven't courted anyone. Why not?"

"Well, to be honest I-- Did not realize for the longest time what was... happening." Dimitri bends his head to look down over Khalid's shoulders, where his hands meet at the small of his back and play with his own fingers. "It was not until fairly recently that I had _normal_ courtship offerings as it was. Most of the time, we were never alone, and the mention of any future wedding or bonding of houses was never mentioned--at least... not to my face. Even after I knew, even if they were nice girls... I could not let it happen."

"Ah. I see." Khalid brushes Dimitri's cheek lightly with his knuckles and then settles in to rest his head on his shoulder. "Well, not that I would wish loneliness on you, but for my own selfish sake, I'm glad...heh. Otherwise, we wouldn't be here."

"We may still have been, in all honesty..." Dimitri suddenly realizes how awful that sounds. "Among Fódlan's nobility, rare is it to find a marriage unarranged. More often than not, even after the wedding, spouses are rarely together, in Faerghus. My father is happy _now_ , though only because he convinced his advisors to allow his marriage to my stepmother, after my mother passed."

"Huh." Khalid considers that. "Yeah, I suppose with a caste system based on Crests and land ownership, that makes sense. In Almyra, I could technically marry anyone, even a commoner--if they could beat me in a duel. Of course, that's highly unlikely, since nobles have most of the money and can pay for better training and gear and all that, but theoretically it could happen." He falls quiet, and then says, "My father even married a foreigner. She's from the Alliance, actually."

"Was she? Do you happen to know from where? Though I haven't been there often, I could swear to know it as well as the back of my own hand, with how often I've stared down at its maps."

"She's from Derdriu." Khalid wonders whether he should really be saying this much, but...it's not like Dimitri is likely to suddenly shun him or anything, right? "She, ah...well, her name is Tiana von Riegan."

It takes Dimitri a second, but then-- "... oh. Oh! Your mother is Duke Oswald's daughter?" He mulls over what he remembers of the Riegan clan and their vanished scion. "I suppose that answers that question."

Khalid lifts his eyebrows, tilting his head back. "Which question is that?"

"Well... many centuries ago, before the Alliance was formed, House Riegan served my family. Like retainers, of a sort. Even after they left Faerghus and took root in what would become Derdriu after the war that created Leicester, they remained our allies. Your uncle Godfrey was there for some of my earliest birthdays, not to say that I remember him well. But our families were close. And once we'd come to hear of Lady--of... your mother's disappearance, we grew quite concerned. We even searched our own domains on the chance that she'd come, or been brought, north. Obviously, we never found her... but once I was older, I'd always wondered."

"Ahhh." Khalid chuckles, "I guess you know my Fódlan family better than I do, then. But, that's right--my parents met during a skirmish at the border, they hit it off and fell in love, and then my mother relinquished her title to follow him to Almyra so she could best all of his other consorts and marry him. I can't say all that many people were happy about it, but she's proven her worth as one of the best warriors we have, so they don't have much of a choice."

The gears in Dimitri's mind churn, though he soon realizes he's been quiet for too long. "That doesn't happen to have anything to do with that...competition idea of yours, does it?" Maybe, he thinks, that's a straight shot to getting to court Khalid.

Khalid's face heats up again--it didn't _before,_ per se, but it sure does now--but he shrugs. "Could be. It certainly would be a good opportunity for any potential suitors to prove themselves to the princes and princesses, wouldn't it?"

"Would there be... any others vying for your hand, do you think?" Not that Dimitri would complain if not, but he wouldn't mind proving his prowess against someone in _particular_ if he had to; he isn't _that_ shy.

Khalid laughs after a few seconds of silence, but it's forced. "Who knows? I doubt it, I'm right in the middle of the pack of my half-siblings. And none of them have foreign mothers, so I'm not exactly in high demand."

"Mmh. I suppose that... regardless of whether I have direct competition or otherwise, I don't intend to lose. Nor to disappoint. You... did say that you enjoy a good show, did you not?" Dimitri gives him a small grin, but it doesn't last long, as he catches himself. He takes to playing with the lock of hair that falls into Khalid's face as he asks, "Is that acceptable to you? That I would... attempt to court you?"

Khalid is a man with a vivid imagination. Right now, he's imagining this scenario: the fearsome Lion Prince of Faerghus stepping out onto the stadium floor and defeating all comers, until he's crowned the winner and Khalid's father asks him what he'd claim as his reward. In his deep, booming voice, Dimitri announces that, should Prince Khalid accept, he wishes for the opportunity to duel him for his hand... Khalid wraps his arms around Dimitri's middle and smiles. "More than acceptable. And I _did_ say that. Watching you fight in a tournament like that would be...something else."

Dimitri chews over that and decides that he very much _likes_ this sort of attention. "It sounds horribly selfish of me, but... I thought about what you said, earlier. When we discussed my possible trips to Almyra. Will you be there? With the troops?"

Khalid grins. "That was the plan. After all, who better to lead our forces into Fódlan than the prince with family ties there?"

"Good," Dimitri says softly. "Now that you... are aware, I don't know that I could go so long without seeing you again."

"I feel the same." Khalid chuckles, "And here I was, afraid you'd cancel your trip if you knew what I was scheming. You seemed so...reluctant, before, to leave Faerghus. I didn't want you to think I was _only_ making the suggestion for the sake of a reunion with you."

"I will admit that I have softened to the idea over time, though... we still must wait and see if my father agrees that such trips are necessary. I suppose that we ought to be prepared to... make adjustments, as needed. Change our meeting point, perhaps, or devise a schedule..."

"Leave all that to me. I'll have backup plans for our backup plans, it's my specialty. You just worry about getting your father to agree. And, worst case scenario, you _don't_ come to inspect the troops and I just march into the Kingdom to join you early...though I _would_ love to show you my home first, if I can."

"Hah. Then... I will leave it in your hands. I've no doubt that my father will see reason, especially once he considers what a boon it will be for our alliance. And... I would love for you to have the chance to meet with some of my companions, as well—there are many who could not leave their posts for this journey, but perhaps in the future... "

 _Meet his companions, huh? Not sure they're going to be quite as accepting of all this..._ "Of course. I'm sure there will be opportunity once I've established our posts there." A faint shadow of his grin returns. "Can't plan strategies without talking to all the generals, right?"

"Of course." Dimitri pauses. "I must... apologize. Even speaking of all of this, I keep thinking that I..." He doesn't even finish it before he's getting lost in Khalid's eyes again. In the end, he doesn't ask out loud. He just leans in that little bit closer, and catches Khalid's chin between his thumb and fingers. His face heats with embarrassment to realize how his attention has strayed, but he doesn't take back his silent request.

Khalid chuckles. "You're not the only one." His arms wind around Dimitri's neck and they come together once more, soft and slow and sweet.


	3. Parting Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I--I could never... are you certain?" But... wouldn't it be nice, to have something like this to remind him of Khalid, a dash of warmth for him when he's back in Faerghus and the cold? Thinking that, Dimitri calms again, squeezing Khalid's hip and smiling. "I truly... thank you, Khalid."
> 
> "I'm certain, and you're very welcome." Khalid tilts his head up. "I'd also like to give you another kiss, if you'd accept it. Maybe several more." He winks.
> 
> Dimitri's face goes red again. He's of a mind to lean closer, but ends up fumbling his way into leaning over Khalid suddenly--not that it's a bad thing, he thinks...probably-- Khalid reaches up to pull him down into a slow, lingering kiss, not at all bothered by the change. Now that they have true privacy, Dimitri loses himself in it. He only realizes by the time he's already pulling away that he's more or less straddling Khalid now, with both hands planted on the bed on either side of him. Dimitri struggles not to hide his face against Khalid's neck as he murmurs, "Sorry..."
> 
> Khalid looks up at Dimitri, flushed too as he catches his breath, and curls a hand around his arm as if to keep him there. "Don't apologize. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't be here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the rating! We've moved from T to E with this chapter.

Back at the Goneril estate, Dimitri is an hour late to bed and thinking about what it would be like to share a room with Khalid tonight, too. He's thinking this as Khalid walks with him back to the guest wing, where he lingers even as Dimitri's opening the door to his own room. He feels his ears flush. "... my station grants me considerable privacy. Even those I grew up with do not intrude upon my private spaces." _Just...there, a small offer, if he wants..._

Khalid turns to him with an impish smile. "Oh, is that right? Then I suppose, if you wanted to pick up where we left off last night before you have to leave in the morning, this would be a pretty good opportunity, huh?"

"I would not argue." Dimitri is little worried, suddenly, about the state of his rooms; are they in a state to have Khalid of all people see them? But it's too late now, so he steps aside and holds the door open for the other prince to come in.

But Khalid holds up a finger. "In that case, I'll fetch my things from my room and return in a jiffy."

Dimitri does what he can to prepare while Khalid's away. He dresses down, and... well, what he normally sleeps in is _far_ too little, so he puts on a pair of comfy slacks to sleep in and, albeit a little hesitantly, takes off his eyepatch. He goes through a brief panic when he remembers Khalid's sleeping robe and wonders if it will make another appearance...it shows so much of the other man's appealing chest, and accentuates the lines of his body, and-- Dimitri shakes his head, cheeks reddening slightly in this shame at thinking of Khalid that way. He sits on the bed to wait.

Khalid comes back in just a few minutes, dressed indeed in that same sleeping robe--Dimitri swallows, seeing it, but manages not to embarrass himself further. Khalid also carries a little jeweled box and a thick candle that's half-burned in his hands.

"I never suspected I would need to go to such lengths to be sure you get sleep." As if Dimitri seems like he minds, with the way he's smiling up at Khalid.

"Ah, _that's_ why you invited me in. I should have guessed." Khalid winks as he sets the box and candle down on the bedside table. It's only then that he turns and gets a close look at Dimitri without a shirt on, and he just... Stops.

"Not the _only_ reason why, though a good reason to do so, you must admit. I also happen to quite enjoy your company--" He cuts off when he sees the odd look on Khalid's face, and sits up just a little. "... is something the matter?"

Khalid clears his throat and shakes his head. “No, the opposite. I, ah...” He licks his lips, the tiniest bit nervous. “You look really good.”

Dimitri's surprised, by the compliment but also to see Khalid... suddenly not as utterly smooth as he normally is. So of course he can't help but smile a little, taking a moment to fuss with the sheets and pillows. "As do you. Though I'm wondering what you're still doing over there." He smiles, lightly amused.

Khalid blinks and his usual playful smirk returns, “Oh, couldn’t you tell? I’m enjoying the view.” His cheeks still feel a little warm, but he crawls up onto the bed and sits beside Dimitri...not entirely sure how close he should be sitting, despite earlier, so he opts for ‘a few inches apart’ for now.

Dimitri's grinning like a fool, now, despite how red his face is. "Ah, of course... I suppose that that makes two of us." He gives a nod to the nightstand and the items on it, giving Khalid a silent, questioning look.

Khalid smiles, clearly pleased with himself for piquing Dimitri’s curiosity, and reaches over to pull the box into his lap first. “I brought a couple of things that I use to help me get to sleep. I thought you might like them.” He opens the box and then turns a little key hidden at the back several times—winding it up, because it turns out to be a music box. Inside, the little dancer figure slowly spins, wearing sashes and silks, as an Almyran lullaby plays.

Dimitri has never seen a music box in his life. He watches, dumbfounded. "Oh..." He leans up on his arm, leaning in close to look at it, though he's almost ridiculously careful not to get too close or touch it. "Hilda told me that your technology was something amazing, but I could never have imagined..."

“Here. It’s okay, you can hold it.” Khalid hands it to Dimitri, his smile growing wider and more delighted.

Dimitri freezes, absolutely horrified that all these tiny moving parts are going to just...break, somehow, in his hands. But after a moment or two when nothing happens other than the music continuing, he settles down again, bringing the little dancer close to his face.

“I knew you’d like it,” says Khalid. He leans over to the table again to retrieve the candle, lights it with a match, and inhales deeply. A scent like richly spiced lavender starts filling the room.

Dimitri takes a slow breath, too, and soon he's melting into the mattress, though he's careful to keep the hand with the music box in it upright and stable. He couldn't bear it if he came to break it. "This... this scent reminds me of something. I can't quite put my finger on it, but... I can see how it would help you sleep. It's lovely."

“I have a lot of candles like this, but this one is my favorite.” Khalid puts the candle back down on the bedside table and then--a bit braver--slides closer to Dimitri and farther down on the pillows, his eyes on the prince watching the music box dancer turn as though enthralled. After a minute or so, Khalid scoots just a little bit closer and rests his head on Dimitri’s shoulder.

If anything could tear Dimitri's attention away from this tiny marvel, it's Khalid. He moves to lie mostly on his back so they can relax together a bit more easily. The only sound for another minute or so is the music, until Dimitri chuckles softly. "There is something that I wanted to give to _you_. I meant to do it tomorrow, but..."

"Oh? Tell me more."

"It is... perhaps lackluster, as gifts go, but my people have always treasured practicality over prettiness, especially when... some meaning might be ascribed to it." Dimitri's very careful in moving, both for the box's sake and Khalid's, but he manages to reach the drawer in the table on his side of the bed. "The value of protecting another's life, to a Faerghan, is priceless. One ought to be prepared to do what it takes, regardless of circumstances, and regardless of what might be expended." When Dimitri comes to lie flat on his back again, it's with a sheathed knife in his hand; nothing particularly fancy, from the looks of it, but by the time it's in Khalid's hands, its heft is clear. "A lousy gift for an archer, perhaps. I would pray you never find use for it. But I can also hope that, should you find yourself in a situation where it would be necessary... it can be of service to you. In some way."

Khalid pulls the dagger out of its sheath carefully to admire the blade, turning it in the candlelight. As plain as its sheath is, the blade itself is dark steel shined to perfection, just light enough to make out the patterns all across it. "Dimitri, it's lovely--thank you. I may be an archer, but I certainly have had need for a weapon like this before, and I have no doubt I will again." He doesn't sound all that perturbed by it. "Do these patterns mean anything?"

"You mean, if they form anything significant? No, not particularly. They are entirely random, though the process through which they are made is very deliberate. They're forged of different metals, combined into a single blade. In particular, they are made to grace the hands of my father's guard... a symbol of one with a warrior's spirit."

Khalid runs his fingers lightly over the steel, then turns to look at Dimitri, eyebrows raised. "And you want to give it to me? I'm honored, but...why?"

"I've become quite convinced that you are one of the bravest people that I know." Dimitri gently runs his thumb along the edge of the music box as he watches Khalid. "But, what's more... this knife has protected me through the most violent upheaval to shake Faerghus within my lifetime. If I may send even only a small piece of myself with you... let it be one that may protect you."

"...you think I'm brave? What makes you say that?"

"As you are aware, there's been just as much strife between our lands as there has been peace. Things are going well now, thankfully so, but who is to say that they will continue that way a year from now? Or, five? Ten? Yet... in this short time I have known you, I have never seen you waver in your belief in the good of people. The inevitability of it. I only hope to be so brave, one day perhaps, to think the same."

Khalid's eyes remain on the blade, rather than on Dimitri. "I suppose what you call bravery, I've always thought of as stubbornness and ambition, heh. Some call it wishful thinking, some outright delusion. Some tell me it's a coward's dream. ...but not you."

"They can think what they like, so long as they stay out of our way." Then Dimitri goes quiet and struggles for a moment. "...I have grown up in this war. Spent my most formative years killing, for the sake of defending my people. It is all I know... and so to think of something else, a path that diverges from slaughtering those who disagree, how could it not be brave?"

Khalid smiles. "I like the way you see things. The way you...treasure things." He sheathes the knife again and places it carefully on the bedside table by the candle. "Thank you for the gift, and for that insight."

"Of course." Dimitri finds himself starstruck by that smile. "I'd... to be perfectly candid, I feared it would have been too much, but I... also had not anticipated that we would end up _here_." He punctuates it with a careful turn, reaching over Khalid to set aside the music box with caution before that arm comes to drape over his waist.

Khalid in turn rests his hand on Dimitri's chest, feeling at ease. "Too much? Not at all. In fact, I intended to give that music box to you, if you found it to your liking."

"What?" Dimitri's eyes widen with incredulity. He glances past Khalid, to the nightstand. "I--I could never... are you certain?" But... wouldn't it be nice, to have something like this to remind him of Khalid, a dash of warmth for him when he's back in Faerghus and the cold? Thinking that, Dimitri calms again, squeezing Khalid's hip and smiling. "I truly... thank you, Khalid."

"I'm certain, and you're very welcome." Khalid tilts his head up. "I'd also like to give you another kiss, if you'd accept it. Maybe several more." He winks.

Dimitri's face goes red again. He's of a mind to lean closer, but ends up fumbling his way into leaning over Khalid suddenly--not that it's a bad thing, he thinks...probably-- Khalid reaches up to pull him down into a slow, lingering kiss, not at all bothered by the change. Now that they have true privacy, Dimitri loses himself in it. He only realizes by the time he's already pulling away that he's more or less straddling Khalid now, with both hands planted on the bed on either side of him. Dimitri struggles not to hide his face against Khalid's neck as he murmurs, "Sorry..."

Khalid looks up at Dimitri, flushed too as he catches his breath, and curls a hand around his arm as if to keep him there. "Don't apologize. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't be here."

"I merely... I don't wish to push you too far. I don't know what--" Dimitri stops himself abruptly, because even he has the pride to be embarrassed to admit he doesn't know what he's doing.

"We'll figure it out together. If either of us approaches a line, we'll tell each other and it will be fine. Right?"

"Yes, right..."

Hearing such a thing helps cool down Dimitri's blood a bit, and by the time he's leaning back down for another kiss, it's more languid. A tentative hand finds a place to rest on Khalid's hip, and soon Dimitri begins to explore more, breaking away from Khalid's lips to pepper light kisses along his cheek and jaw as the other man tangles his hand in Dimitri's hair. When the prince reaches the sensitive skin of his neck, Khalid takes in a quick breath and tugs a little on the golden hair between his fingers. The sensation almost shocks Dimitri with how _good_ it feels, pulling a low groan from his throat; hearing the sound sends heat up to his ears and he presses his face against Khalid's shoulder, bashful.

But the faint graze of his teeth and the vibrations of his voice seem to do _something_ to Khalid, because in the next moment he's pulling at Dimitri's hair again and squirming beneath him as he bites his lip and suppresses some sound at the back of his throat. It's so...alluring, and so _endearing_ , and suddenly Dimitri just wants to melt into him. He lowers himself further atop Khalid, though careful not to rest his full weight upon the man, and nuzzles his neck before pressing his lips to its tender flesh again. Dimitri kisses and even nips lightly at the column of his throat, as his hands find their way to Khalid's hips and pulls them up just slightly toward him.

This finally pulls a sound from the other prince, just a small gasp, as his fingers tighten in Dimitri's hair, hips arching further into him--and it's the last straw for Dimitri's patience. He surges back up to claim Khalid's lips in another kiss, insistent, even just the slightest bit sloppy. Khalid kisses him back eagerly, but silently. Dimitri pulls away just a little to murmur, "You are so quiet..."

"Well, I...I'm not really used to, ah...expressing this kind of thing." A faint flush brushes across Khalid's cheeks. "To be honest, I wasn't sure how comfortable you would be with..." His voice lowers to almost a whisper. "...hearing how much I want you to touch me."

Dimitri...wasn't anticipating that sort of straightforward honesty, and he ends up gawking at Khalid for a moment before he answers, "I don't know what I'm doing." Then, a little lower, "But... whatever you want me to do, I... am willing."

"Dimitri, I don't really know what I'm doing either." Now Khalid sounds amused at them both, though he's still a bit breathless. "Just...touch me. However you want, whatever you feel." Almost like punctuation to his coaxing, he splays his hands over Dimitri's chest and runs them down slowly, feeling every muscle beneath his fingers.

Dimitri's caught between shuddering under the feeling of that touch and wondering what exactly it is that he feels, in that sense... When he moves his hands they're gentle, trailing touches up the other man's side and along his back, until his fingers thread through Khalid's hair and pull him back up into another kiss. It's short, just a few seconds, before Dimitri presses him back down into the mattress.

This time, Khalid's less shy about humming low into the kiss. When it breaks and Dimitri's hands are pushing him firmly down, another gasp escapes him and he meets Dimitri's gaze with an intense, wide-eyed look. Dimitri is a little tentative again when Dimitri leans down and noses gently at Khalid's robe to slide it down so he can see the crook of his shoulder. But before he bites down again, he says, "If I am too rough... you will tell me?"

Khalid nods, swallowing. "I'll tell you. Promise."

Dimitri nods back before he laves Khalid's neck with scraping kisses, and his other hand slips further down until he's dragging his nails along the back of Khalid's thigh. It's unintentional, but he can't help a sound of satisfaction when he lifts Khalid's leg just enough and feels like they slot together perfectly, with Dimitri on top like this. A small voice in the back of his mind urges him to keep listening for signs of discomfort, even when his kisses get sloppy and his playful little nips become almost-ungentle bites that he tries to soothe away in between.

Khalid has never done this before--has never had someone do this _to_ him before--but he finds it intoxicating, not unwelcome. The further Dimitri goes, the more little gasps and quiet moans he makes and the less unwilling he is to make them, as his own nails dig into Dimitri's back. He tries not to squirm too much, because he can tell how careful Dimitri's being and he's not sure he knows exactly why, but he can't stop himself when Dimitri does that thing with his tongue...

After a few minutes of this, when Dimitri has a nice little love bite forming there on Khalid's shoulder, he takes a moment to breathe. He scatters a few light little kisses along Khalid's neck; his hands have moved a few times, but all the while he's been very cautious about where and how he touches Khalid, listening to how his breathing changes each time. Quietly, and a little cheekily, he whispers, "I'm realizing that I enjoy this far too much."

Khalid laughs, somewhat breathless. "If you're enjoying it 'too much,' then I guess we'll have to like it too much together."

"Mm." Dimitri leans up for a kiss, and soon after he loops his arm around Khalid's waist and turns over, pulling the other man on top of him. "I don't want to stop, but I don't want to be too rough with you. I have a tendency to... break things, when I let myself get carried away."

It's Khalid's turn to lean in for another kiss, then. "Would it be strange if I said I think I _want_ you to be rough with me?" He flushes a little, but he's grinning too, until his smile softens and he cups Dimitri's cheek in one hand. "I don't think you'll break me. I trust you not to." He surprises himself, saying such a thing, but he can't help it. It...feels true.

"No, but..." Dimitri squeezes his thigh lightly. "You haven't yet seen the extent of my strength. Were I to get careless, or... I truly could hurt you. And I could not forgive myself if I were to do so." There's definitely more than one incident from recent memory where such a thing happened, but Dimitri shakes it off fast enough that his face doesn't fall quite yet. "But... I wish to make you happy, as well."

 _'I wish to make you happy.'_ This, too, is new for Khalid. Until now, the only people who have wanted to make him happy were those who wanted something in return. Some favor from the royal family, funds, or sometimes just...entertainment. Of a kind Khalid is not fond of providing. But Dimitri really means it. He knows, because he stops everything just to gaze into that clear blue eye, and he can see it there. His breath catches just once; he lets himself be overwhelmed for just a moment; and then it passes. "I understand. I won't ask you to do anything you're uncomfortable with--just know that if you want to get a little rough, I certainly wouldn't mind."

"I will try to keep it in mind," Dimitri says, with the smallest of smiles and a hum, before he lifts a hand to tangle back through Khalid's hair and pulls him down for a light peck on the lips. "I suspect that, in the end... I am only making things harder for myself. The longer that this lasts, the less I wish to leave, come tomorrow..."

Khalid leans into the hand in his hair, almost catlike. "Hm, is that right?" Mischief plays over his face now. He comes back for a deeper kiss before he drags his lips to Dimitri's ear and runs his tongue over the lobe, then drags them down again to repay Dimitri in kind with a trail of open-mouthed kisses to his neck. "In that case, I'll hold you to what you said about not wanting to stop." It's an exercise in restraint for Dimitri, struggling to keep his grip from getting too tight on Khalid's thighs. He's not nearly as good at keeping himself quiet, either, all soft sighs and whimpers. Khalid gradually gets bolder. He moves slowly so he can easily stop if something seems like too much for Dimitri, but soon he's running his hands down Dimitri's bare chest and following them with his kisses, and soon after that he's carefully licking his tongue over one of Dimitri's nipples and watching the reaction he gets.

Dimitri drags one of his hands down to the sheets, and even though he manages not to make a sound, the force of his grip tears into them. It's the physical touches, yes, but it's more than that; it's the thought of how rarely anyone touches him so gently and so affectionately, and never like this. It's the feeling of awe at knowing that Khalid _wants_ to, that he cared enough to push through the hard shell Dimitri surrounds himself with to want to be soft with him. It's almost too much.

Khalid _likes_ that reaction. He gently suckles on the nipple while he rubs his left thumb over the other one, straddling Dimitri's legs to steady himself above the other prince. His right hand just roams--oh, he can't get over how beautiful Dimitri is, how much he wants to touch every part of him, how much _power_ there is in these rippling muscles and yet how gentle Dimitri can be. Khalid feels as though he could never have his fill of this man.

Dimitr's _so_ aware now of Khalid's every little breath and brush of skin, every movement of his clever tongue, and it drives him completely out of his mind. The sound of him ripping the sheets in earnest is only barely drowned out with the way he moans Khalid's name. Trying not to thrash too much or be too loud, he turns his head in an attempt to stifle his sounds and movements in the pillows, but his moaning comes out loud and clear nonetheless.

No one...has ever said Khalid's name that way before, so soft and full of longing. He shivers. No one has ever ruined sheets over how much they like what he's doing, either, and it only pushes him to be even bolder. He brings his teeth to bear, grazing ever so lightly over the nipple in his mouth. Dimitri gasps loudly, too loudly for the pillows to stop. The hand still on Khalid's back clutches at his robes, though Dimitri's just aware enough not to tear the garment straight from his shoulders. "K-Khalid, oh..."

A pleasant warmth spreads throughout Khalid's body, to be able to coax this kind of reaction out of Dimitri and hear his name spoken like that again. He wants to hear it all the time. He switches sides, licking and lightly nipping at the other nipple even as he resists the urge to grind his hips down against Dimitri's. That...might be a step too far, even though the way Dimitri's talking really makes him _want_ to--the Faerghan prince begins to babble quiet nonsense the longer Khalid works, murmuring about how good he feels, how lovely Khalid is, "please, please keep going..." Dimitri tangles Khalid's robes further in his fingers and arches his back against Khalid's mouth and hands.

Khalid does as he's asked and keeps going, sometimes moving his lips back to Dimitri's neck and ears while his fingers continue playing with Dimitri's nipples, making his own little marks with his teeth and whispering back: that Dimitri's so beautiful, so strong and handsome and warm, and that Khalid could spend all night just feeling his hands on him, touching him in return, listening to him moan his name...

Even with it only having been a month or so since they met, Dimitri has come to know that Khalid isn't a frivolous person. He's saying these things because they're rooted somewhere in something he believes, and for a minute he's so overwhelmed with the sentiment that he's half of a mind to haul Khalid up his body and kiss him again, properly. He restrains himself, conflicted about what they're doing; he feels like he wants more, but he isn't sure if he _should_ want it. He ends up softly whimpering, trying to urge Khalid up to him with some more-or-less gentle tugs on his robe. Khalid gets the message quickly and obliges gladly, nuzzling his way up Dimitri's broad chest until he's claiming those lips again and pressing himself close so he can bury his fingers in that halo of blond hair.

After a few more kisses, Dimitri pulls away, if only so he can ask, "Khalid... how far... is too far?"

Khalid catches his breath, thinking about it as clearly as he can in his pleasurable daze. This answer surprises him, too, and yet it seem so simple to say, "With you...I don't think anything is too far. I..." His voice drops to a whisper. "Dimitri, I want you. If that's what you want, too."

"I - I do." Dimitri's still breathless, and a little disbelieving. "I didn't want to push you, but I - you're so... lovely." That's putting it lightly, he thinks, still hazy from Khalid's attentions. Honestly, he could probably go on forever with compliments for his fellow prince, both about his looks and his personality... and now Dimitri's gotten himself embarrassed by it. He disguises his attempt to hide his face against Khalid's shoulder by pressing a kiss to his neck, instead. "I - I have thought of you..."

Whether it's the kiss or the words, a heady tingle goes down Khalid's spine. "Have you?" His ears are burning again, but a slow smile spreads across his face. "I'll admit, I've been...thinking about you, too. For a while now. Thought about this...about sparring with you in the training grounds for the excuse to touch you..."

Dimitri's voice is little more than a groan that he doesn't bother to hide. "Please, I want you to..." He isn't used to feeling so feverish or desperate, not in a good way like this. He's already pulling Khalid into another kiss before he can say something else to embarrass himself further, not that it's long before it happens anyway. "Whatever you wish, however you want to touch me..."

"Careful what you wish for..." Khalid murmurs, with one last kiss, before he slides his hands down Dimitri's body and toys with the top of his pajama pants. "May I?"

Dimitri gives a shaky nod and moves his hands to flatten against the sheets. Otherwise... he'll probably end up pulling on Khalid's hair, and he's not too keen on that just yet.

Khalid scrapes his nails lightly against Dimitri's hips as he slips the pants down and takes him in one hand, privately...well, _impressed_ , but he's not going to make Dimitri feel that self-conscious just yet. He starts off gently running his hand up and down Dimitri's length, partially to watch Dimitri's reaction and partially just to feel it for himself.

Dimitri doesn't anticipate how it will feel before it happens, and all his nerves seem to melt the moment he feels the drag of Khalid's palm as he struggles not to rip through the sheets even more where he has them balled up in his fists. Dimitri tries to watch him as he does it, but by the time he's bucking up into Khalid's hand, he's screwed his eye closed and dropped his head back against the pillows. He lets out a hoarse little moan, murmuring Khalid's name so softly, trying to keep his voice down because he doesn't know who could be around at this hour--but he never thought it would feel like _this_...

What Khalid sees makes him bite his lip hard. He can't keep himself from grinding against Dimitri's thigh anymore, while he slowly picks up the pace and becomes a bit less gentle. The friction makes him groan aloud, and he suddenly feels that he wants even more out of Dimitri. He wants to see the other man utterly _maddened_ by his touch. He slips down farther on the bed and lowers his mouth to run his tongue along Dimitri's warm length. Dimitri is already approaching the edge so quickly that the feeling of Khalid's tongue nearly has him jumping out of his skin. But instead of reaching for him, Dimitri reaches up to take hold of the headboard instead--and luckily, too, because it cracks slightly under his grip already. He doesn't have the faintest idea where this impulse of Khalid's came from, but he could never complain, even as he tries hard to keep his hips still.

 _That's more like it..._ Khalid pulls back and grins. "Oh, Dimitri, you look just _gorgeous_ like this. I want to make you feel so good you can't even speak." And then he has no more words, taking Dimitri into his mouth fully. Although he's never done this before, he's read plenty, and he's good at reading the reactions he's getting and adjusting to stick to what Dimitri likes best. All the while he glances up to watch the results of his labor, keeping one hand at the base of Dimitri's shaft and the other flat against his hip. It's even more of a struggle for Dimitri to keep himself still now, and he puts so much effort into relaxing, making no sudden movements, that he's babbling in Khalid's place about how good it feels on the rare few occasions that he can even manage actual words. He channels the brunt of his energy into his hand instead, and the headboard hasn't yet shattered under his grasp, but it's creaking like it isn't long for this world.

Sometimes, when Khalid glances up, it isn't to look at Dimitri's face but rather his grip on the headboard. Is it weird, he thinks, that he kind of _wants_ to see Dimitri break it? Weird or not, it's an urge he doesn't want to ignore. He picks up the pace and uses his free hand to wander back up to Dimitri's chest and play, and his hips roll hard against Dimitri's leg--gods, seeing Dimitri like this is driving _him_ mad, too.

Dimitri doesn't realize until it's too late that he's being toyed with, but he's already so close to falling apart that he doesn't notice the wood splintering under his fingers until he's already taken a chunk out of the headboard--not that he seems to react much to the realization. It takes a lot of effort to do so gently, but his other hand moves from the sheets to slide through Khalid's hair, even as he's so careful not to pull or tug.

Khalid moans quietly around Dimitri as he watches the wood split and break under that impossibly strong hand--and it's _definitely_ weird, he thinks, that he sort of wishes he were the headboard right now. He grinds against Dimitri’s thigh harder and whines in satisfaction at the hand in his hair. Dimitri can't help wondering vaguely whether Khalid is _trying_ to get himself hurt. Not that he doesn't remember him saying he doesn't mind if Dimitri gets rough with him, but he's... faintly aware of what just happened, how does that _not_ worry Khalid? But he lets his fingers tangle in the man's curls with the slightest bit of force, now--and _fuck_ , Khalid wants to see Dimitri lose himself to pleasure _right now_. He takes a few deep breaths through his nose and then pushes forward, taking Dimitri's entire length into his mouth for the first time.

Dimitri can't keep his low, gasping groan quiet this time, but when he grips harder and holds Khalid's head still, lets his hips roll just a little, it's somehow still so carefully. He looks down at Khalid, asking with his eye if this is alright, or if it's too much. Khalid doesn’t even see the look at first, too busy closing his eyes and enjoying this new development, but when he glances up again he nods and strokes Dimitri's hip with his thumb to reassure him. Dimitri starts off with a slow rhythm once he starts moving his hips in earnest, gently shifting his hand to find a better grasp on Khalid's hair. He's clearly enjoying himself, as embarrassed as he is to be... doing _this_ to Khalid. But even when Dimitri quickens his pace and thrusts deeper again and again, even when he can't silence his own heavy breaths and urgent noises, he's listening and watching for any sign of distress.

He finds none. Khalid goes still, letting Dimitri do as he pleases and focusing on breathing and taking him in each time. But _gods_ , the feeling of that warm, massive hand pulling at his hair and immobilizing him while Dimitri fills his mouth and throat more desperately with every passing second...after a few thrusts he reaches under his robe with one hand to touch himself in rhythm with Dimitri’s pace, even as he keeps his eyes up to watch his lover in turn. When Dimitri sees Khalid stroking himself, the view is so overwhelming he nearly hits the end of his restraint right then and there. Somehow, he manages to stop himself. He lets go of Khalid's hair to take hold of his arm instead, coaxing the other man further up his body. "Khalid... c-come—I want to try something..."

Khalid pulls his mouth away, surprised. He obliges, though, licking his lips and crawling back up to meet Dimitri's eye with a grin. "Whatever it is, I'm game."

Carefully, Dimitri puts his hand on Khalid's hip and guides him to settle in between his legs. He reaches down and, with a look, takes Khalid in his other hand once they're close again, shivering a little when they brush against each other. "M-mostly, I wish to kiss you again..." Dimitri gives a tentative roll of his hips, and sighs when he decides that this new position will do.

Khalid presses his face against Dimitri's neck for a moment, gasping at the new contact, but he pushes himself back up almost immediately. "I like the sound of that...just one second..." He reaches back to pull the sleeping robe over his head and off, dropping it onto the floor, before he lowers himself again to slide his fingers into Dimitri's hair and kiss him deeply. Dimitri keeps up a pace even through Khalid's kisses, and through how enthralled he is to see all of him at last.

Dimitri doesn't last for long after that. When it finally comes close to hitting him, he's bruising Khalid's hip with the force of his grip, groaning low against his mouth. Khalid digs his fingers into Dimitri's hair now, kissing him hard and not minding the forceful manhandling at all. Soon, Dimitri's pace stutters briefly--but his intent, mushy as it may be, is for them to find their release together. He pulls back from Khalid's lips to murmur in his ear. "Khalid...you're so good...this, this is so good...how beautiful you are, always, but especially just like this...look at you..." The litany of praise sets something off inside Khalid, something intense that he lets spill over into a fierce, hot wanting. He nuzzles into Dimitri's neck and whimpers, muffled against his throat, until he shudders and crests that wave with a cry, not entirely in sync with Dimitri but soon after.

Minutes, or maybe years for all they know, pass in quiet bliss. Nothing but their breathing and slow comedown from their high inhabits the moment, as they lay entangled and relaxed in each other's arms. Eventually, Dimitri halfheartedly contorts enough to reach down to the floor and grab his shirt without pushing Khalid off of him. It isn't exactly the most elegant of ways to clean them up, but it works for now. Soon, he settles back down against the bed and pillows properly, hugging Khalid tightly to his chest. "That... never before have I... oh, Khalid..."

Khalid cuddles close, basking in the embrace and running his fingers gently through long, blond hair. "Yeah...me either. That was...incredible, Dimitri. You're incredible."

"You did most of the work," Dimitri says, soft and sheepish. But he wears that embarrassed smile of his and closes his eye to lean in against those nice, soft touches.

Khalid chuckles. "It was effort well-spent, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Dimitri sighs and whispers, "If it was going to be difficult for me to leave before... I haven't the faintest of ideas how I will manage to do so now." His face falls into a small frown, because now...he can't stop thinking about tomorrow, now that they have this.

Khalid presses small, fleeting kisses to Dimitri's cheek and jaw. "I don't suppose you could find an excuse to stay an extra day or two, hm?" He knows the answer is no--Dimitri has a war to fight, after all, and besides, Khalid suspects that if he were to linger, they both would have an even _harder_ time saying goodbye. But he asks anyway.

"I doubt it. As it is... Arianrhod has been without a commander since our journey here, a month ago. I do not know if the time can be spared..." Dimitri's arm winds tighter around Khalid's waist, and he buries his nose and lips into those soft, dark curls, humming softly. "Perhaps... we will merely have to continue with the plan we've already established, and hope that our preparations do not take too long. I cannot allow our western border to fall..."

"I know." Khalid sighs, resting his cheek on Dimitri's chest. "And I doubt the Gonerils would be pleased if I used the time I was supposed to spend finalizing border plans with them to hide away somewhere with you instead...though _I_ certainly would be." He chuckles. "Fortunately, you can speak to your father on the road, and it won't take long for me to fly home and prepare. With any luck, I'll see you again before the turn of the next moon."

Dimitri takes a moment to think about that. While he normally doesn't like to be too optimistic, he says, "I... hope so. I believe it would feel... very empty. To have experienced this, and... come to know you as I do, only to be away for so long..." He finds one of Khalid's hands and brings it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. "I can only hope."

Despite everything they've just done together, this little romantic gesture is what makes Khalid flush and hold back a giddy noise. "I would feel the same way. Which is why I don't intend to take more time than we must. If you're needed at Arianrhod, then I'll simply have to bring my troops to you _without_ prior inspection." He smiles, and his tone softens. "I'll do everything in my power to help you ensure that your western front holds, Dimitri. I promise."

"If that is what you intend... then I will inform the installations we pass to anticipate your arrival, in the near future. To be on the safe side." There are a lot of implications behind all these words they share, and it's been such a short time that Dimitri feels he can't say anything of that sort without sounding ridiculous about it, but...he can still pull Khalid closer, and lift his head to press a chaste kiss to his lips. "We ought to sleep, now. It's... hours past midnight, it must be. But... if we should be awake, in the morning, perhaps, we can speak again."

"Mm." Khalid returns the kiss and settles in against Dimitri, pulling the blankets over them and burrowing into the other prince's warmth. "If you really are leaving at dawn, I expect you to wake me up before you go, even if only to bid you farewell." He lifts his head a little just to give Dimitri an expectant look. "I mean it. Don't let me sleep just because you think I need it. I'll go back to bed once you leave."

Dimitri stops himself from arguing by pursing his lips, and eventually just sighs and nods quietly. "Yes... alright. I will wake you before I leave, I promise you."

"Good." Khalid sighs, feeling strangely content--and strangely _safe_. The thought sends a brief spike of anxiety through him, realizing that he left his dagger in his room, but...the idea of sleeping without it here in Dimitri's arms doesn't seem half as bad as he thought it would. The familiar scent of the candle helps, too. _"May the moon grant you sweet dreams, Dimitri,"_ he murmurs in Almyran.

Dimitri almost shivers upon hearing it, not understanding the words but understanding their sentiment from his tone, how gently he speaks. He leans over to extinguish the candle on his side, so that Khalid's is the only one that burns in the room now, and tucks the blankets tightly around them both. "Sleep well, Khalid," he whispers.


	4. Parting and Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "These sorts of cloaks... they are special in Faerghus. Their color denotes an ally of House Blaiddyd and grants passage through our lands. No soldier on our side of the border will think you to trespass while you wear this." And seeing Khalid in it makes Dimitri smile, as he adjusts it to sit properly on his shoulders. "And, should you truly come all the way to Arianrhod... it will suit you well, and keep you warm in our weather."
> 
> Khalid runs his fingers over the warm fabric and looks up to give Dimitri a grateful smile with a tinge of wonder in it. He cups Dimitri's face in both hands and kisses him again. "Thank you. I will treasure it."
> 
> Dimitri glances at the window, gauges the time, and sighs. "We'll be going. Get your rest, Khalid... you have your last negotiations before you yet."
> 
> "Yes, Your Princeliness." He reaches up to place both hands on Dimitri's shoulders and give him the traditional Almyran greeting and farewell--a kiss to both cheeks--before he wraps his arms around Dimitri's neck in a quick hug. "Travel safely. I'll see you again soon."
> 
> "I will. I'll await you in Arianrhod... codladh sámh, Khalid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces Siril (Cyril)! We changed the spelling of his name to match the Arabic version. More about why he's hanging out with Khalid later on!

Come morning, when Dimitri wakes up, he's so very careful to move Khalid off of him and keep him covered and under the blankets as he goes about collecting his things from around the room utterly silently. Once he's finished and dressed in his riding cloak and gear, he sits down on the edge of the bed and gently shakes Khalid's shoulder. "Khalid, wake up for me," he murmurs.

Khalid blinks awake and is almost alarmed, at first, at how _not_ alarmed he is. Normally, he wakes quickly and at the smallest sound. Today, all he feels is warm and groggy. And then he remembers--Dimitri's waking him up because he's about to leave. Khalid yawns and sits up, shivering as the blankets fall into his lap. His hair's a wild mess of curls and goosebumps are crawling up his arms in the chill, but he's smiling. "Good morning."

It doesn't slip past Dimitri's notice. He smiles in return and starts to lean over to drag the blankets behind Khalid and up over his shoulders--but stops, as he remembers what he has folded in his lap. "Good morning. Had I not promised I wouldn't... I would have left you sleeping. You looked so peaceful..." He can't help but stroke a thumb across Khalid's cheek and comb his fingers lightly through his hair, trying to tame it just a little. He leans in and presses a kiss to Khalid's lips, then to his forehead.

"See, I knew you'd leave without waking me up if I didn't say anything." Khalid shakes his head, fond.

"We'll be departing for Faerghus soon, but... there is something else I wished to leave with you. Both for practical reasons, and... sentimental ones alike."

Khalid lifts his eyebrows. "Oh? What is it?"

Dimitri moves to unfold what's in his lap. When he leans back in again, it's to wrap Khalid in a cloak. The details are hard to see in the dark of the room, but Dimitri says, "These sorts of cloaks... they are special in Faerghus. Their color denotes an ally of House Blaiddyd and grants passage through our lands. No soldier on our side of the border will think you to trespass while you wear this." And seeing Khalid in it makes Dimitri smile, as he adjusts it to sit properly on his shoulders. "And, should you truly come all the way to Arianrhod... it will suit you well, and keep you warm in our weather."

Khalid reaches over to the bedside table to light his candle again so he can see the color more clearly: a rich, vibrant blue not too dissimilar to Dimitri's own cape. Khalid runs his fingers over the warm fabric and looks up to give Dimitri a grateful smile with a tinge of wonder in it. He cups Dimitri's face in both hands and kisses him again. "Thank you. I will treasure it."

Dimitri lets himself melt into it just a little, knowing that if he allows it to go on for too long, he'll end up dooming himself... When he pulls away, though, he lets their foreheads touch and his eye close. "When you travel through the Alliance, and then through Faerghus... so long as you maintain a distance from the southern border, you and your men will be safe. Promise me that you will not endanger yourself more than necessary."

"I promise, but only if you'll promise me the same thing. I don't want to get to Arianrhod just to hear bad news. I hate bad news." Khalid smirks, but the words are completely sincere.

"...I promise you. Your arrival in Faerghus will see celebration, not tragedy." Dimitri glances at the window, gauges the time, and sighs. "We'll be going. Get your rest, Khalid... you have your last negotiations before you yet."

"Yes, Your Princeliness." He reaches up to place both hands on Dimitri's shoulders and give him the traditional Almyran greeting and farewell--a kiss to both cheeks--before he wraps his arms around Dimitri's neck in a quick hug. "Travel safely. I'll see you again soon."

"I will. I'll await you in Arianrhod... _codladh sámh_ , Khalid."

Dimitri speaks with his father about the Almyran troops coming straight to Arianrhod mere minutes after their entourage is on the road back to Faerghus. And long after that conversation ends, he's still thinking about the Almyran prince.

Meanwhile, contrary to what he told Dimitri, Khalid doesn't get back to sleep that morning without the other man's warmth and soft breath to lull him. Instead, he takes breakfast with Hilda and gushes to her in hushed tones about Dimitri--and really, she could have acted at least a _little_ surprised, just to spare his pride. But she's happy for him, and he's happy for himself, too.

* * *

In a week's time, Dimitri receives a letter sealed with the royal crest of Almyra and written in Khalid's casual hand. Most of its several pages detail the troops and supplies he intends to bring to Faerghus, confirming that he will be leading them and working out logistics. But the final page, folded separately from the rest, is just a small note that reads: _Thinking of you. -K_

With a soft smile on his lips, Dimitri pens a letter in response. It's at least twice the length of the other prince's missive, but that's because the separate and personal part of it is several pages in and of itself. He writes about the warm reception he's planning for the Almyrans--and, more specifically, Khalid himself--when they arrive, and that he hopes the feast will be up to Khalid's standards. He writes about how beautiful the snowfall is, and how lovely it will look blanketing the countryside for their journey, and how he's thinking of Khalid as well... He hadn't _meant_ to make it so lengthy, but it-- The words just got away from him, he supposes. Still, he omits nothing when he sends it.

Khalid's hope of seeing Dimitri within the moon was unfortunately a bit too optimistic. It takes ten weeks to prepare everything on both ends of the trip, and another fortnight to ride from Almyra across Leicester and most of Faerghus to reach Arianrhod. It would have been a faster and easier journey to fly there, but Khalid refused to risk the health of their wyverns in the Kingdom's unforgiving cold, especially not knowing how long they'll be staying. True to Dimitri's word, the blue cloak Khalid wears grants them unquestioned passage through every Faerghan territory, and even a few nights of hospitality along the way whenever they have the good fortune to run across a lord's manor at the right time of the evening. Despite its usefulness, he can't escape Nader's teasing about it; he never actually told Nader about his relationship with Dimitri, but he somehow knew anyway. He _did_ tell Siril, who in characteristic fashion focused on the practical things, like whether Khalid would be able to keep from daydreaming about Faerghus' prince long enough to strategize. (Khalid chased him into a snowbank for that one.) Also true to Dimitri's word, the snow _is_ beautiful, but Khalid could have done without it actually falling _on_ him for several days straight.

Finally, the day comes when Dimitri's scouts report the Almyran army's approach. Dimitri and his people scramble to have everything ready by the time the prince at the army's head rides through the gates of the Silver Maiden with his honor guard. Seeing Khalid again in person--wearing that cloak--fills Dimitri with a soft but restless feeling. It's a struggle to keep himself from rushing over as soon as the man dismounts his horse and sweeping him into his arms, but he manages it. It's an even greater struggle when Khalid approaches him with a wide, warm smile and greets him with those same traditional cheek kisses as before...especially when Khalid is clearly lingering on them a little too long. Dimitri fights not to grin like a loon, maintaining his princely solemnity. "Prince Khalid. I'm glad to see that your journey brought you here safely. I have made arrangements for boarding you and your men in our barracks. You all must be tired, after your trip."

“Oh yes, we’re very tired. Definitely.” Khalid isn’t winking, but something in his _tone_ is, somehow. "But before we retire, allow me to introduce my retainers. This is General Nader the Undefeated; I'm sure you've heard of him, as he is the strongest warrior in Almyra save the king and queen themselves."

Dimitri most certainly has heard of him, if mostly as Khalid's combat instructor in his childhood anecdotes. But he gives the man a polite little bow. "Certainly. It is an honor, General."

"Likewise," says the sturdy, broad-shouldered man with the ready grin as he bows a little in return. "Kha--I mean, His Highness, has told me all about you, Prince Dimitri."

 _Has he,_ _now..._ With the unsubtle way Nader's looking at him, Dimitri has a feeling he knows precisely what Khalid has told him. But he simply nods.

"And this," Khalid goes on, "is Siril." He ushers forward a teenage boy of maybe 15 or 16, who looks up at Dimitri with an unimpressed gaze. He bows, though, as is proper, and simply says, "Hi."

"Hello," Dimitri replies with a smile, charmed somehow by that brevity. "Now," as he turns his attention back to Khalid, "I fear I must entertain your company for a time longer, so that we might discuss how your troops will be deployed here, though I'm certain there will be plenty of time for rest between the end of our discussion and the feast that we've prepared for you." ****

"Ah, speaking of the feast--" Khalid gestures for someone to bring one of the horses from the supply train, laden with packages and parcels of varying shapes and sizes. "Please accept this offering as Almyra's contribution. We are humbled by your generous hospitality, Prince Dimitri, and wish to repay it in kind."

Dimitri thinks he can see a hint of impatience in Khalid's eye, serene as he seems; he knows by now that the Almyran prince has little love for Fódlan's brand of formality. "Of course. I will have my men handle it for you." He turns to gesture beyond the fortress' gates. "If you would come with me, we have much to discuss, Prince Khalid."

Much the chagrin of both of them, Dimitri's expected to give the visiting prince at least a short tour of the facilities. He keeps it as brief as he dares and makes sure to end it by kindly escorting Khalid to what will be his chambers, a few doors down from Dimitri's own. He graciously accompanies his guest inside, no doubt to show him the various amenities available to him.

Or, in reality, to shut the door behind them and waste no time in pinning Khalid against it by the shoulders and capturing his lips in a long-awaited hungry kiss. It comes as no surprise to Khalid, but Dimitri still manages to leave him breathless by the time they eventually part. He thinks that, perhaps, no amount of time would change the way Faerghus' prince takes his breath away. He grins. "I take that to mean you've been anticipating my arrival, just a little?"

"I-I haven't stopped thinking about it." Dimitri is honest as ever, if still embarrassed by the words. He ducks his head against Khalid's shoulder and pulls him into a fierce hug. "You don't know how relieved I am to see that you're safe..."

Khalid pulls Dimitri close in return, still dazed from this sudden greeting and the confirmation that yes, this _is_ still happening and Dimitri _does_ still want him...he feels almost feverish. “Likewise. I didn’t doubt that you’d hold the line, but seeing it for myself is reassuring.”

Dimitri gently sweeps Khalid into his arms and moves toward the bed, so he can sit and cradle the man in his lap. "How long do you think you'll be able to stay?"

Khalid wraps his arms around Dimitri’s neck and basks, indulgent, in the touch and the warmth. Oh, he's missed this. “Well, we did promise to lend you our aid until the war is resolved, one way or another.”

Dimitri's eye goes wide. "You... do you mean to say you will be staying here? For that duration?" He's trying not to get his hopes up, because it seems _so_ much more likely that he's misunderstanding, but... wouldn't that be such a wonderful thing? To have his fellow prince beside him through thick and thin, through victory and defeat, no matter the hardships? How much more bearable it would make this endless conflict...

“Why not?" Khalid says, caressing Dimitri's cheek with his fingers. "I’ve been working my entire life for this alliance, I don’t intend to leave anything to chance. Besides, I wouldn’t abandon you in the middle of a war.”

"I-I just... I had not anticipated..." But a big, goofy grin spreads across Dimitri's face as he squeezes Khalid's waist with one arm. "I was preparing myself to... have to say goodbye again. Soon, I mean. But if you _are_ staying... I haven't the slightest objection."

Khalid grins back. “Good, because you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, not after I’ve come all this way.”

"Mm. I can only wonder how long it will be before you're complaining about the cold. I imagine you won't sound so enthused come nightfall..."

Khalid laughs. “Oh, I’ve been complaining about the cold the entire way through your icebox of a country. But I have faith that you can come up with ways to keep me from freezing.” He leans in close to press another kiss to Dimitri’s lips.

Dimitri melts into it, letting his hand drift just a little lower on the other man's back. "I certainly intend to do everything I can to keep you warm." He’s back for more kisses between words, now, as though to demonstrate his point. "We have hearths in every room, our garments are trimmed with the most luxurious furs in Fódlan..." A kiss. "Our cooking is hearty and far spicier than anything to have graced the halls of Goneril's estate, not to mention that our walls here are built with the sturdiest of stones, and reinforced each year to keep out the cold..." Another kiss. "And, well. Were we to share our accommodations again, I sincerely doubt the rest will be necessary."

“Mm...that all sounds lovely, but you’re right—one tall, handsome prince is all I really need.” It's Khalid's turn to return for another kiss to prove it, slow and languid. “Ah yes, I feel warmer already.”

"Mmm... which reminds me that I ought to show you to my own chambers." Dimitri's goofy grin makes its way back onto his face as he stands, reluctantly setting Khalid back on his feet just in case they should be seen. Once he ducks his head into the hallway and confirms that they're alone, though, he takes the other man's hand and leads him down the corridor to his own room, at the end. Khalid is so charmed by it that he finds no words to say as they walk; it’s another thing he’s never really done before, holding someone's hand this way, and he finds it unbearably romantic.

Naturally, Dimitri's rooms here are more personalized than those he occupied at the Goneril estate, but not by much. They're no bigger or more elaborate than any of the other rooms here save for the fact that they contain only a single bed, like Khalid's room, and not the bunks his soldiers use. But he anticipated the other prince's arrival, of course, and the floor and walls are covered in soft furs to keep heat in. He's brought a significant portion of his own library from Fhirdiad, too--to keep himself occupied on the few occasions he'll need to, but more so for Khalid's benefit, if he's honest.

Dimitri crosses the room to his writing desk and pulls an ornate key from the drawer, only to deposit it in Khalid's palm. "I keep this room locked, but... you may enter as you see fit, of course."

Khalid's eyebrows lift as he looks up at Dimitri in surprise, and no small bit of wonder, and just a hint of disbelief. “You’re...giving me a key to your chambers?”

"I keep odd hours. Usually, when I'm here, I stay up quite late... most of my nights I spend conducting our interrogations or walking the walls. I will not always be here when you return after your day, and... perhaps more reasonably, you will need a way to lock the door when you wake up later than I." He gives Khalid a small smile. He's definitely aware that it's quite a bold thing to do, but it isn't as if it's much bolder than letting Khalid sleep in the same room, the same bed, is it?

Khalid finds those reasons all very practical and reasonable, if predicated on the assumption that he’ll be sleeping here with Dimitri, but still...it feels like a very _intimate_ gesture, and displays an enormous amount of trust. He swallows and closes his hand around the key almost reverently, nodding. “Thank you, Dimitri.” He’s sure he couldn't really explain the kind of overwhelming appreciation he has for this, so he doesn't try.

"Of course." Even if he doesn't completely understand, Dimitri can tell from that subtle little bewilderment that it means _something_ , at least. He smiles softly and takes a second to adjust Khalid's cloak so that it sits on his shoulders more fully. "When I said that we had business to attend to, I wasn't being _entirely_ untruthful. We should discuss how your troops will be deployed, but... later."

“...yes, later. Please. For now...” This gesture too, adjusting his cloak, feels so incredibly sweet and personal compared to what Khalid's used to. He catches one of Dimitri’s hands before it can retreat from his shoulder and brings it to his lips to kiss the knuckles, gauntlets or no. He’s new to this, still, but he’s certainly read plenty of tales of epic romance. “For now, let me just enjoy your company.”

It surprises Dimitri enough to widen his eye, but his smile returns quickly. "How, then, does tea sound? When he arrived, my companion Dedue saw fit to bring me plenty of his home's richest varieties, and I imagine that you must be hungry after your trip... the greenhouses here are wonderful too, perhaps there..." And soon he's drifting off into his thoughts as he thinks through the perfect date, even with Khalid standing right there.

Khalid watches him daydream with an amused smirk. “Those all sound great.” Then, in an excessively formal tone with a mock-bow, he goes on: “I would be honored to take tea with you, Your Princeliness.”

This bit of silliness snaps Dimitri out of it. His smile is giddy as he escorts his...guest? To the greenhouse, after he goes rummaging through his things for the tea Dedue gifted him and finds a staff member to request the necessary supplies brought to the gardens. Luckily for Khalid, the greenhouse is kept warm with magic, and Dimitri finds a lovely corner shrouded in greenery and adjacent to a small pond installation for them to settle in for tea.

They fall back into their usual quiet conversation so easily, and now sometimes Khalid leans forward to rest his hand over Dimitri’s on the table, or rests his chin in his hands just to look at the other prince, with his crystal-blue eye and the sentimental little smiles he shows no one else, silky blond hair falling over his face in fetching strands... Khalid feels like a ridiculous schoolboy, but it's such a buoyant feeling that he barely cares. After a time, he says, “You know, I’m not the most religious man, but I’ve got to hand it to the gods of fate this time, crossing our paths the way they did.”

Dimitri takes a moment to think about it. "Hah... I must agree. I never imagined I would have come away from that negotiation with a friend, much less... someone like you." He reaches past the teapot to gingerly take Khalid's hand in his own, squeezing it gently. "... I never thought that I would have something like this."

Khalid squeezes back, letting an introspective smile spread across his face. “You may find it difficult to believe, but I never thought I would, either.” He remembers that he deflected the question the last time they talked about it... but for now, he settles for saying, “The gods haven’t always smiled on me, so it’s a welcome change of pace, heh.” He doesn’t really believe that the gods had all that much to do with it, but it’s a nice thought, anyway.

To think that Khalid considers his company, his...companionship something akin to a blessing...it stirs butterflies in Dimitri's stomach to hear it. "I feel the same. If there is a Goddess or some other deity out there, I have a great deal to be cross with them about, but... this to thank them for, too, perhaps."

Khalid chuckles, feeling weirdly shy for a moment and covering it up by stuffing half a pastry into his mouth to avoid having to say anything until he recovers. “Well, I intend to make the most of this opportunity they’ve handed us if they exist. And if they don’t, we can pat ourselves on the back for finding each other all on our own.”

Dimitri's about to say something about how he's never had such good fortune before in his life, but suddenly the door flies open and he half-stands from his seat, hand twitching toward the sword at his belt. Khalid’s followed suit--even faster, actually, already fully standing with one hand reaching into his jacket for the knife Dimitri gave him by the time hurried footsteps bring Annette rushing into the room, eyes shining with excitement. "Your Highness! _There_ you are! I heard we had a--" She spots Khalid and practically squeals. "You! I mean, a guest! Why didn't you introduce him to us?"

Dimitri raises a slow, meaningful brow. "I intended to... after some time to discuss matters. Alone."

Annette blinks at him for a few seconds until she processes this, at which point her face flushes red. "O-oh. _Oh._ I'm so sorry, Your Highness, I didn't mean to interrupt, I--"

"It is fine, Annette." Dimitri breathes out a quiet, indulgent sigh.

Khalid finally manages to put on his Diplomacy Smile and sit back down. “Hi, I’m Khalid. Sounds like you’re Annette.” She seems friendly enough, and he'd love to get to know Dimitri's generals and friends, but not _now_. Fortunately, Dimitri gets up to gently steer her from the room, reassuring her all the while that there will be plenty of time to meet and chat during the feast, but that right now they have time-sensitive matters to discuss about the Almyran troops... Once she's gone, Dimitri sits back down with a hand over his face in embarrassment.

“Wow, I didn’t know I had _fans_ already in Faerghus," Khalid says. "I’m flattered that she was so excited to meet me for...some reason.”

"It is... not every day that we plan _feasts_ here, Khalid. And I couldn't exactly gather the food and supplies for it without notifying my inner circle. I have had nothing but good things to tell them about you, so..."

“Ah, well, I can’t argue with that. Though it’s certainly a first, heh.”

"Technically, by accepting that cloak, you are... more or less their peer, in this country. You would hold a similar station to theirs, as sons and daughters of our most powerful noble families. It isn't _too_ outlandish to say that..." Dimitri gives Khalid a small, nervous smile. "You are one of us, in a way. In an official capacity, I mean to say. Not a position that a foreign noble has ever held, and certainly not a noble from outside of Fódlan."

 _You are one of_ _us._ Khalid doesn't think he could form words even if he could find any to say. He stares openly at Dimitri, subtly drawing the cloak closer around his shoulders without thinking. Were he a different--or younger--person, he might have cried with the overwhelming _joy_ crashing over him like a wave. He's...never been 'one of' anyone before. Not his father's people, nor his mother's. Not even the royal family, not when the best he can say about his siblings is that a few of them don't actively hate him. Sure, his rational mind is aware that what Dimitri's talking about is a political designation, not a personal statement. But the way Dimitri says it, the way he looks at Khalid as though there could be nothing more personal in the world, makes him feel...wanted. Welcome.

But Dimitri's no mind reader, and the look Khalid's giving him sets off alarms in his mind. What if he's committed some kind of grave offense, an insult to Almyran royalty, somehow? Does Khalid think he was trying to deceive him, by not explaining all of this before? "I...hope that is all right. I did not quite realize the extent of it, not until I was...here, in Faerghus proper again." The truth is, he wasn't thinking about the political ramifications at all when he gave Khalid that cloak, because he was busy imagining what the other prince would look like dressed in blue, and thinking about how the garment could keep the man warm on his travels in Dimitri's absence...he's starting to babble now, he can tell, but he can't stop himself. "Such gestures do have significance in our culture in general, it's merely... the color, in this case. This--" He pinches the edge of his own cape and holds it up, so that the threads catch the light in a way that makes it easier to see its shimmer, "--this blue is that of House Blaiddyd, and marks those of our family. So in order to designate those distinguished parties we hold as allies, we chose a similar color..."

“It’s...” Khalid clears his throat. “It’s more than all right. I...could not have asked for a warmer welcome to Fódlan than this. I’m...thank you, Dimitri, for...for making me feel at home here.” He smiles too, faintly but sincerely. He glances down at the cloak’s color briefly, wishing he didn’t sound like some kind of stammering fool. _Pull yourself together,_ he thinks in a voice that sounds suspiciously like his mother's in his head. “I hope to truly earn that trust in time.”

"If you will be staying with us here and helping us in this war, I have no doubt that you will." Dimitri, in turn, can hear Felix's scolding about how easily he trusts, but he's able to brush it off quickly, by now. When his smile widens, it's blindingly genuine. "I want to make a world... where you could see a place like Fódlan as your home, too. Where it won't matter which side of the border you stand on for you to feel welcome."

“...that’s my dream,” Khalid agrees, wondering how anyone in their right mind thought the prince of Faerghus was anything but the sweet, kind, open-hearted man sitting here at the table with him. “I thought about coming here when I was much younger, you know. To the Alliance, I mean, in an unofficial capacity, to meet my grandfather Oswald von Riegan. I might have ended up as his heir, if I had.” He rests his chin on one fist, thoughtful. “The reason I almost did was because I don’t really feel welcome on the Almyran side of the border, either. The reason I _didn’t_...well, I’m not really sure.”

"And... that is because of your heritage, is it not?" It's solemn, when Dimitri says it, and he doesn't try to hide the way his smile fades into something more morose. "My father says that in his youth, when we first allied with Duscur and mixed marriages became commonplace, it was a frequent sight to see the children of such unions... unhappy. There were many who tried to twist their stories into narratives of unhappy family lives as opposed to mistreatment by those outside of the family, but... we were able to move on, in time. Not completely, of course. But enough to make progress, and we continue to." Dimitri reaches across the table to take Khalid's hand. "Almyra can be the same, I know it. I know that you know it, as well... Perhaps even that, your hesitation, was a blessing in disguise to help us reach this point, here and now."

“Progress.” Khalid smiles and squeezes Dimitri’s hand firmly. “To change minds and hearts, without war and strife. You’re right - I do know that we’ll get there, even also knowing that it will take more than my lifetime to truly break down all the walls. We’re shaking their foundations. When you come to Almyra, I want to make you feel at home there, too.”

"I'm certain I will, with you beside me." As if to punctuate the statement, Dimitri scoots his chair around the table until they're sat right next to one another, never letting go. Khalid grins at how utterly _cute_ that is. "Having you here," Dimitri goes on, "it feels like a dream... I wish I could show you Fhirdiad, but Arianrhod has its own beauty, too."

"Once we win this war, you'll be able to show me anything you want, and then I'll do the same in return. A series of grand victory parades, perhaps?"

"Hm. Perhaps." Dimitri lifts Khalid's hand to kiss his knuckles. 

Khalid pulls Dimitri's hand into his lap and holds onto it there. "I _am_ looking forward to seeing Arianrhod and meeting your people. Just...maybe not _right_ this second."

"Ah... of course." That little reminder melts Dimitri's heart, and when he leans down to rest his cheek against Khalid's head, it's to hide the lovestruck look on his face. He lifts his cup of tea and takes a long few sips to hide the huge smile he knows would be blooming on his face if he didn't occupy his mouth with something else. "Tomorrow, I will be back to my usual routine here. Long days, that means. Though... unlike in Goneril, I am not in any _particular_ rush to find sleep..."

Khalid relaxes against Dimitri and sips at his tea, too. "And tomorrow we really will need to hash out deployments and supplies, and all of that madness. But today, I'm in no hurry to sleep either. I'm barely in any hurry to leave this room, to be honest...unless you had somewhere else in mind for us to continue our little chat." His expression grows impish.

"Well, it is just as much a conversation between allies as it is between friends." Not that 'friends' completely encapsulates whatever they are to one another, now, but Dimitri's not about to hash that out here, with Khalid still present. "And there is not a place more private than my quarters. Were we in Fhirdiad, decorum would dictate we use my audience chambers... thankfully, we are _not_ in Fhirdiad."

"Ah yes. Decorum and I don't get along that well at the best of times, so I suppose it's a good thing it's spending all its time in Fhirdiad." Khalid grins. "And of course, we simply _must_ have privacy, two important royals such as ourselves."

"Mn. It's of the utmost importance, really." Even if they weren't alone, the cloak Khalid still wears does a good job of hiding the hand that rubs gently along his side. Dimitri lowers his voice, then: "I would never complain about getting time alone with you."

"What a coincidence," Khalid says just as quietly, holding his gaze steady as he looks up into Dimitri's eye and lightly settles one hand on the other man's thigh, also hidden by the cloak. "I've been waiting to get some more time alone with you since you left the Locket."

"Have you, now." Dimitri _immediately_ tells himself that the greenhouse _is not_ the right place for this, but can he really help it if Khalid's hand on his thigh is pretty convincing? He leans down a little, unconsciously tightening his grip on Khalid's waist, and ends up pulling him the slightest bit closer until they're truly sat hip-to-hip. "... you have spent a great many nights wandering through my thoughts, in kind."

Khalid takes in a quiet but swift breath. "Hmm, I _do_ have a tendency to wander. So do my thoughts, sometimes, especially late at night when I can't sleep." He slides his hand up just a fraction. "They found you pretty often, too."

With the way they're sitting, Dimitri can't see much around them. His eyepatch is facing the rest of the greenhouse and the entrance at the far end of the room, but he's confident after a few moments of listening that there's nothing, no footsteps down the hall or anything of the sort. So he leans down and catches Khalid's chin between his fingers to pull him into a kiss, more forceful than the sweet little pecks from earlier, especially once his hand slides down enough to squeeze his hip and the side of his thigh, instead.

A quiet whimper escapes Khalid as he lets Dimitri tilt his head back and succumbs to the kiss, bringing one hand around to cling loosely to the back of Dimitri's neck. His fingers clench just a bit where his other hand still rests on that thigh, and although he really ought to be just as cautious as Dimitri is, he leaves all that to the other prince--it's his fortress, after all. Khalid's just going to follow his lead.

Dimitri is tempted-- _very_ tempted--and despite knowing that they shouldn't get too into things out here where anyone could stumble upon them just as Annette did... now that he has Khalid in his arms again, he's going to cherish it, even if only briefly. In a second, he's haphazardly pulled the other man off of his seat and into the air, then against the edge of the table, though the brunt of his weight is held up by Dimitri's hand under his thigh. Khalid hums, pleased, into Dimitri's mouth as he's lifted effortlessly--still quiet, but... When Dimitri pulls away from the kiss, he dips his head down to Khalid's shoulder and sighs against his neck. "We should not... but I am sorely tempted."

Khalid fiddles with the collar of Dimitri's jacket with one hand--just playing with it, for now. "Should not, huh? Who made _that_ rule? And here I thought you were in charge here..." He's clearly teasing, almost taunting--but of course, if Dimitri really doesn't want to do this here, he's perfectly fine with waiting a few minutes. Still, 'sorely tempted' describes the way he feels right now, too...he nips very lightly at Dimitri's lower lip with his teeth, so briefly.

"Do not test me, Khalid." It's low, a playful grumble, and if Dimitri's hips twitch the barest amount... "I may be in charge here, but I do not wish you to miss the banquet I went to such great lengths to plan for you, and if I start now... there will not be nearly enough time before I am done with you."

Khalid's breath catches, at both the words and the sound of Dimitri's voice--like a growl, but _much_ more inviting than the way he once gave such terse responses back when they first met. "Well, they can't start without us, can they?" he murmurs, and the hand at Dimitri's collar unclasps the top clasp--just the very top one. For now. "I, for one, am _very_ curious to see what you have planned that's going to take so long..."

"They could. Very likely would. That _is_ a great deal of food to simply let go to waste..." Dimitri pauses and chuckles a little, giving himself a few seconds to shrug off his embarrassment before he says, "I've had three months to think of what I wish to do to you. I promise you, I could certainly fill an evening." _Is that an odd thing to admit to? Surely, thinking of him that way isn't odd...how could I not? I hope that isn't strange to him..._

Khalid groans. "With a promise like that, how can you possibly expect me to behave myself?" Whoops, he's undone a second clasp.

"If you do not behave, we may not get to do much of anything. This fortress is filled with soldiers." Even as he says it, though, Dimitri snakes a hand up the back of Khalid's tunic, mindful of his gloves and gauntlets, to let his hand settle at the small of his back. "I'm certain they wouldn't take kindly to watching us ravish one another in the halls--or this greenhouse, for that matter."

"Oh, I don't know, two princes' passionate escapades sound like the perfect fodder for an epic tale to me..." But even before the words are out of his mouth, Khalid's blushing at the way Dimitri phrased that (and, frankly, his _own_ phrasing...) and arching back into his hand. "I'd say why don't you _tell_ me all these things you're going to do to me, but if you tell me I'll want you to do them right now." And a third clasp is undone under his fingers.

"I may not have much choice, should you keep undressing me." Dimitri doesn't seem to mind it at all, though, and even pushes his chest out slightly into Khalid's hand.

"Hmm, guess I'd better keep doing it, then." And true to his word, another clasp comes open under the Almyran prince's fingers.

Soon, Dimitri's other hand carefully slides out from underneath Khalid's thigh and instead drags the cloak from his shoulders, then tugs just slightly at the collar of Khalid's tunic in turn. "... we've still a few hours before our dinner," he says, leaning in close and brushing the shell of Khalid's ear with his lips. "Perhaps we will not get through everything... but we could attempt to get through some of it."

The warm breath against Khalid's ear gives him pause as he shivers; Dimitri's voice seems to travel all the way down his spine, and by the time his hand starts moving again to finish opening Dimitri's jacket and push it away from his shoulders as far as he can from here, his muscles are beginning to tense pleasantly. "You've got to start somewhere," he agrees, a little breathless.

"Mm," Dimitri agrees, before getting out of his chair and kneeling at Khalid's feet. "I believe I will start here." Khalid's eyes widen slightly as Faerghus' prince takes great care in freeing his rapidly growing arousal from his trousers and leans forward to take it carefully into his mouth. It's not long before Khalid's tangling a hand in Dimitri's silky hair and biting his own lips to keep quiet as best he can while Dimitri shows off his enthusiasm after several months of separation.

Afterward, Dimitri is clearly _very_ satisfied with his efforts. He licks his lips and covers one of Khalid's thighs with kisses, rubbing gentle circles into the other with his thumb. Soon, he kisses his way up to Khalid's face and pecks him on the lips, before breathlessly teasing, "We really will be late to your feast if we keep this up."

Khalid leans back on his hands on the table, sweaty and panting for breath, hair mussed and grinning lazily. "But what kind of guest would I be, Your Handsomeness, if I stopped now and left you wanting? Especially after you did _such_ a good job...so rude of me." He tugs Dimitri back in for a deeper kiss, if a more languid one.

Dimitri will never not indulge him in a kiss, so he waits until after he's pulled away to make his point: "I think we could both use what time we have left to freshen up." He plants a kiss along Khalid's jaw as his hands put the other man's clothes back in order for him, then clasp his own jacket back up afterward. "There is always _after_ dinner."

"I can't say you don't have a point..." Khalid reaches up once Dimitri's moved on to his own clothes to run his fingers carefully through the tangle that he made of Dimitri's hair while he was grabbing and pulling it, trying to smooth it out as best he can. "After dinner, then. It's a date." He winks.

"I look forward to it, as always." Dimitri gives him a soft smile. "Though I hardly intend to leave you to get back to our rooms alone." He carefully helps Khalid down from the table, then pulls the cloak back over his shoulders to try and hide how disheveled his clothes are now.

Khalid doesn't _need_ the help with all these things, of course, and if it were anyone else he'd wave them off, but he lets Dimitri do it anyway; it's kind of nice to let someone else take care of him for a change, he thinks. Especially someone as sweet and gentle and strong and maddeningly attractive as Dimitri... "Good, that means I don't have to take my eyes off you for a little while longer." He resists the urge to take Dimitri's arm on the way out of the greenhouse. Just in case. As he pointed out, there _are_ others here.

"Should all go to plan, you won't for the rest of the evening. Did you believe I would be sat at the head of the table without you?" Dimitri's cautious as they move through the halls but, true to his suspicions, nearly everyone who could intercept them is already preparing for the feast. They arrive in their wing of the fortress without issue, now with Khalid's luggage having been delivered to his room. "I didn't want to even entertain the thought of having you anywhere but beside me."

The things Dimitri says... It's starting to get just a little overwhelming, but in a good way; in a way Khalid wouldn't change. Even if he occasionally needs to remind himself that being treated like...well, like royalty, _here_ doesn't mean that someone's trying to wheedle favor out of him or butter him up to take sides against their rivals, or...whatever. It just means that Dimitri cares about him, and when he can manage to fully take that in, it's a warm feeling. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be." He brings a hand up to the strands of hair flopping into his face and smiles, wry. "You were right, I definitely need a bath."

"Hah. Well, we have time." Dimitri himself doesn't need to bathe, really, but if Khalid needs help washing his hair... Dimitri wouldn't mind plopping a pillow down next to the tub to help him. "What was it you once said? 'Fashionable lateness'?"

Khalid laughs. "I did say that. And I'll admit, I _do_ relish the idea of making a grand entrance with you after everyone else is seated. This is quite the turnaround from all your worries about being late, though."

"Ah, well, if it's _fashionable_..." The truth is that Dimitri could hardly bear to deny Khalid anything at all, and as he ushers the other prince through the door into his chambers, a memory about that cloak he's wearing pricks at the back of his mind, too fuzzy to fully recall. Just the vague notion that there's something important he's forgetting about it. What could it be...?


End file.
